What I was doing was returning home from Seattle (400+ miles there and back; just call me Trucker Bob, who has been driving all over the place lately.) I went there to meet a couple of b**ggers -- Stargazer (Margaret) and Bonnie. We met at this sweet-smelling joint named Zoka's Coffee House, where I got the Thatcher special pound of beans for only $19.95.
Normally, I would say something like: "Here's a picture of Margaret and me. I am the pretty one." But, see, she's real pretty too, so I guess I have to tell you she's the one on the left. Otherwise, you wouldn't know.Margaret is a pistol, an excellent conversationalist. She bought me a latte, which was terrible, but it wasn't her fault. It was my fault for not knowing what it was. So it goes. But get this in the Small World Dept.: She is a French teacher. Bonnie has a daughter who speaks lucid French and works for the French Chamber of Commerce in Manhattan.
(Can't you just imagine those two getting together: "Fooey grass" and "petty fours" and all that.)
Normally I would say something like: "Here's a picture of Bonnie and me. I am the pretty one." (Oh, we've been through that, heh?)Surprise to me, but Bonnie doesn't have formal training in the arts, which embellish her b**g page most frequently. She says "I just like it," so she buys books and studies it when she's not having babies. Bonnie is the most Mommy of any Mommy I know: She has 11 children, all of them born at home.
I ask you: Does this look like a woman who has had 11 children? (She's the one on the left).
(*In case any cops are reading this, I lied. I never went over 70.)
(*In case there are no cops reading this, I touched 85 briefly. They don't call me Speedy Muldoon for nothing.)
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My favorite word today is voting. N., voters do it in secret. Def.: A legal way to stick it to the minorities.
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