"If an exit is indicated by 'dink, dink, dink,' how do we indicate an entrance? Knid, knid, knid?" - BuddahPat
They're made of common ingredients and a lot of nothing. But they're beautiful; they shine, glow, twist, float, elicit oohs and ahhs from the spectators. Who knows how full each one will become, how high each one will soar, how long each one will last?
Human lives? Those, too. I was thinking of bubbles. There had to be a metaphor. I just hadn't noticed it until now.
It seems overly kind, but the CityPaper's review of the show should draw viewers. If any of the "target audience" age bracket even READS CityPaper...perhaps the play's title should be Women and Men on the Edge of Their Final Exit....
(As was the case last year, though my photo is published, it isn't credited. Why that bothers me I couldn't say.)
The Democrats have left the Convention. Tim's got a theme going in his cartoons lately.
Farewell to the "L" word? The Animal debates.
I left home, left the hotel room, left the site of the Pennsylvania Renaissance Festival. I did not, this trip, find the need to exit- or enter- the emergency room.
(I give spending money to the kids for food and sundries. My son brings back a red rose for me. Where'd this kid GET all that charm?)
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