Well, who would have ever imagined that Pope "Fertilized Eggs" Benedict XVI would come out in support of bare-backing?
Still, I just don't know about taking advice on sexual health and family planning from a man who probably has never kissed a girl (or perhaps not even a guy)--or from one who attended a summer camp organized by one of the world's best-known "pro-eugenics" organizations.
Happy Saint Patrick's Day everyone! Please celebrate appropriately!
(Photo taken outside the Lusty Lady "Liveshow" Theater, Seattle, Washington, March 2009. No, I did *not* go in. I went shopping at Nordstrom's instead.)
It's still winter outside in Pennsylvania--but in my heart it's . . . still winter.
And it has been winter in fact since November, maybe even October, when we had our first snow of the season before Halloween this year.
November was rough, December was no peach, but January was brutal, with snow everywhere, bitter temps, and potholed roads and snarly moods to navigate. Because I love irony and melancholy, to celebrate, I went to Breckenridge, Colorado, in February just to get away from all the snow and cold for even more snow and cold (and skiing and snowshoeing)--just at 11,000 feet above sea level with moose and the Rockies as a backdrop.
Upon my return to Pittsburgh, February proved itself to be slightly menopausal, up and down and all over the weather map, with warm days, rainy days, sunny days, snowy days, cold days, daze, daze, daze, 28 days of daze.
Who can say what March will bring?
To help us not get through it (because, sometimes, this time of year, I just have to ask why, why, why I do this to myself, live in the bottom of dark well with a soppy, gray blanket covered over me), I present my latest, YouTube-facilitated, video montage of winter melodies, "Twenty Songs to Kill Yourself By."
