from the WOW report, which I found by doing my daily slog in the salt mines, during which I admire my manicure and listen to loud music and eat snack foods and drink refreshing beverages and get paid to read gossip blogs.
It’s a brutal job, but somebody’s got to do it.
I hear some women know the trick.
This little item, from Lola’s Dashboard (via Hazel) reminds me, for no reason I can put my finger on (in polite company) of the time I was at the Bacara resort near Santa Barbara, eating the most expensive breakfast of my life ($42 plus tip) and discussing, as one does at the breakfast table, the Black Dahlia murder case. I managed to avoid the more gruesome bits (a tricky business, to say the least) and concentrate on the psycho-social aspects of the case.
“Everyone said she was dumb, but by the time she died,” I said of the then-22-year-old victim, “she’d been living off men for five years. And she was still a virgin.”
“I want to know how.”
And quick as a flash, the waitress said, “When you find out, let me know, too.”
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I’ve been about ready to go all golden eagle on somebody for a couple of days now.
On the bright side:
raincoaster 