A whole lot of death up in my life right now.
This is not my obituary on Taffy, but an attempt to explain why she means so much to me, and why I never called her ‘grandma.’
Ladies and gentlemen. Take my advice. Pull down your pants and slide on the ice.
May Maurice Rest in Peace.
Dr. Otto Mower passed away on the 7th of February. Curae leves loquuntur ingentes stupent.
Well. There’s that, then. This isn’t a happy froo-froo post, this is a split between annoyance, anger, and sincere thanks.
I’m writing too much about death, lately, but it’s that or politics and more people I liked are dead so … Don’t blame me for killing them. To quote MAD magazine: In Star Trek II the crew came back To face the Wrath of Khan Which proved a poor career move For Ricardo Montalban I […]
My first email address was firstname.lastname@example.org I loved that damn car. Eighty years old. I’m kind of stuck there, because the number of memories coming back to me from The Prisoner, and being the only 12 year old in the 80s who watched that, and you know I don’t know what I want to say. […]