Sleepy Hollow

I have absolutely nothing to post, and logged on to actually research Nigeria for my diary entry, savage desolation of which, unseen except by my hard drive, Blogger would not disrupt my account, but not the savage desolation of which you might imagine. Not that he would answer me, (oh geez, this is him now) but I'd quaff John by his ears, today, for spending so much time with me when we were underclassmen. I'd go back in time and lunge at him, beating his sinewy Italian chest, saying "why? why torment me if you didn't want me?" and he'd punch a mirror, drop acid perhaps. I don't even know what the idiom means, dropping acid, and my rental agent is using government agents to corral me in a cage, or black authoritarians, whatever, I'm Kundera's Stalinist joke, a one spastic circus, who hopped in the shower before the news, as usual, and nothing happened, and if I had not called the guard earlier in the month, and had lain there, waited, wriggled, experimented and with strenuous effort picked myself up, I would not now be in this most dynamic challenge, as an obstinate -- what? A Roseanne?

Tassoni. He still looks stoned in his Facebook photo, just as well, I suppose. I hope Gail regrets him with whatever derisive satisfaction this would offer me, but I never had the world into each other they had, and it isn't so much women over 50 couldn't get a golden blossom as it is I could never cherish it, express gratitude for it. I ream my ex on one end and berate him on the other, helpless blind egghead with a windowsill of script, swathed in medical equipment. He horrifies me, and whatever it cost me to break our engagement, the marriage would have been a domestic free for all, and this wasn't what I was going to post about Cameron Diaz, the effervescent quality of her focus. For a former model, her thematic choices have been interesting, but vivacious, still trying to interpret her monologue in Things You Can Tell Just by Looking at Her. The rest of her filmography aside, her work with Berg and Garcia offer intimations about beauty to challenge conventional wisdom about sexual appeal, open doors. Her character in Very Bad Things wants her magical moment in life, but the price of elimination leaves her overwhelmed, shackled by invisible leg irons as stagnating as Leland Orser aping the mannerisms of a true quadriplegic. She has the same characteristics as Uma Thurman, though with softer facial expression.