I was going to write about the gynormous slug found in a downed five foot wide nurse log in the Gifford-Pinchot National Forest.
We oogled him and photographed him traveling and eating by moonlight and by flashlight till my boyfriend proclaimed in a quivering emotional voice HE'S MAJESTIC... *sniff* I FEAR I HAVE WRONGLY JUDGED THE SLUG, THE GREATLY MISUNDERSTOOD SLUG. *sniff* NEW RESPECT, M'MAN, NEW RESPECT
I gagged and yet I have to concede the grandiosity, the imperial dignity of this slug. Those of you who know me know that slugs, the very thought, make me cry. Somehow I managed to take over 15 photographs of this august terrestrial gastropod mollusk. Ugh.
resplendent in the moonlight
In the meantime, I am sorrow-filled and riveted to the television, feeling like a useless jerk. I was in New Orleans a few years ago and the bouncer at Cafe Lafitte in Exile, Big Gay Bob had a huge pink Maglite and flirted madly with my (ex)boyfriend, while the bartenders giggled and said he had legs for days.
Boys, I sure hope you're alright. *sob*
These things are easier for me when I can make a personal connection.
Anyway, I called Piyada tonight, 2:03pm Bangkok time. She was ecstatic to hear from me, recounted the hurricane Sister that does not seem to die down (and who is my horoscopical twin in every way), and told me that she is coming back to the states in January. Man, that is some good news. Plus she has finally acceded to get married to the man who loves her, who she loves... which, for my own selfishselfishselfish ends means she will gain American citizenship.
is that a tongue inside that head hole????? *shudder*
I am working tomorrow night, something I don't like to normally do, and am giving all my tips to hurricane relief. Come eat Thai food and tip me lots of money so I can take credit for being a nice person. Thank you.
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