It’s a good thing I don’t startle easily…
“The name is Bond. James Bond.”
“The name is Bond. James Bond.”
“Actually, you told me never to talk to strangers. I think I’d better follow that advice.”
Thanksgiving Day is time for a recitation of all the shit for which I am thankful – starting with inclusive altruism.
“Daddy, if you die, I’ll probably go on anti-depressants.”
They were Big Kids Now, by gum, and just to show us how great and big they were, they had decided to change one another’s diapers. I was in therapy for Post Traumatic Shit Disorder for months. I still can’t have beans, or look at certain Jackson Pollack paintings, without relapsing and screaming for the wipes.