I don’t blog. Sorry. I snark. I use comments to spout off or communicate in lieu of email. I hang out at Plastic though like Bakerina and orionoir I rarely bother with commenting anymore. Every once in a while one of my friends (I have at least two, I’m sure of that) comments about my literary brilliance or insightfulness and tells me I ought to write more or (shudder) blog. But I resist the urge since there are already not enough hours in my day.
And then along comes our dear Bakerina. She says, “Ahh, come’on, ‘mouse, don’t be a sissy.” “One hit never hurt anyone.” “Besides, this one is free.” “You can try it for a month and see if you like it.” “All the cool kids are doing it.” “What’re you worried about, you rat-wannabe?” And then the clencher, “If you do it, I’ll show you my boobies.”
You don’t think Bakerina said that to me? I’m here, am I not?
‘mouse