|DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID|
Birds, singing. What birds sing in the night?
Neighbors walking past the window. Stomping. Doors slamming. Muffled hollering and shrieking. Other neighbors, angry too, calling for quiet, in their bathrobes. Police, knocking authoritatively.
|Buh Bye! |
October 05, 2008
Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
One Last Bitchfest for the Road
Get the Popcorn Ready
I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
|Marriage is love.|