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2003-07-11 | 12:06 a.m.

corduroy licorice wanted to take his pet hen for a walk, but was afraid to put her on a leash. you see, he didn't want to choke the chicken.


from woody allen's book without feathers:

"red flocked wallpaper and a victorian decor set the tone. pale, nervous girls with black-rimmed glasses and blunt-cut hair lolled around on the sofas, riffling penguin classics provocatively. a blonde with a big smile winked at me and said, "wallace stevens, eh?" but it wasn't just intellectual experiences--they were peddling emotional ones, too. for fifty bucks, i learned, you could 'relate without getting close.' for a hundred, a girl would lend you her bartok records, have dinner and then let you watch while she had an anxiety attack. for one-fifty, you could listen to fm radio with twins. for three bills, you got the works: a thin jewish brunette would pretend to pick you up at the museum of modern art, let you read her master's, get you involved in a screaming quarrel at elaine's over freud's conception of women, and then fake a suicide of your
choosing--the perfect evening, for some guys. nice racket. great town, new york."

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take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:

health tip

health tip

moving house

quibbling with quitherfeather

catcher in the wry