bluepoppy - 2005-01-06 13:33:38
Oh the pain of being a sensitive creature--excrutiating. But that is the recipe for great art, non? For instance, I heard this story about this woman ( who is NOT me) who while a freshman in college had a mad crush on this senior who was some WASP-y blonde beauty and his last name was Weatherall and one snowy February night I, I mean this woman, was very very drunk and saw him up the path from her where she was walking with her two friends (who were holding her up by the arms and trying to get her back to her room) she shouted out "Hi Mr. WeatherBALL, I love you." and as he turned to look she threw-up into a snow bank and then fell face first into said snowbank. And I ask you, why did he not love her? Why??
Molly - 2005-01-06 13:38:39
Well, thank GOODNESS that wasn't you. But at least there was a snowbank. In California, all we had were gutters for the puking. But clearly, WeatherBall missed out, because girls who puke - and fall - in snow are more fun that WASPs, right?

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