Like so many bloggers in the last eight hours, I'm sure, I have to tip my blue hat with the red "C" to the Boston Red Sox. Nobody's ever come back from three and 0, although the Marlins did similar to the Cubbies last year. It always does my heart good to see the Yankees lose.
I've forgotten the plot line to my dream last night, but I do remember reaching between couch cushions and pulling out a handful of rubber bands. Weird, eh?
That "angel sex" passage in book eight of Paradise Lost is overrated, I'm afraid. I remember Dr. Doyle making a big thing of it, but it's about the least erotic thing I've ever read. But I suppose that's my sin-numbed, postlapsarian mind trying to take it in. On the other hand, I'd forgotten Satan's speech at the beginning of book nine. I was fairly tired when I read it last night; I'll have to give it another run today. I'm certain it isn't as good as his book four speech; otherwise I'd remember it. But it deserves another read.
I'm substituting for an ESOL class today. Mary thinks I'll be fine, but I wonder whether this is going to be one of those harsh lessons in saying no.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment