I had blue, blue eyes under blue, blue skies
until night when my eyes became red, white, and blue.

Joan says that, "Sometimes it is better to be liked than loved."

It is nice to have purpose: Kitty Poo, the beautiful, beautiful kitty who lives next door, who I am kitty-sitting, this weekend, was so happy to see me, this morning, that she practically jumped into my arms the moment I opened the door, and entered her abode. Of course, she immediately started to ignore me, once I had put food in her bowl because love is not as important as food.

Would you rather watch a football game, or see the world slowly disintegrate in front of your eyes?

I wonder if it's a sin
to be less than perfect.