Love is knowing when not to jump off a bridge with someone
and when to be at the bottom ready to catch them.
Love is always there,
you just have to be able to see it.
No words are necessry between loving hearts.
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Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it.
February 24, 2008
Than: I Shall send you some kisses; I know how very well you like them.
Love is knowing when not to jump off a bridge with someone and when to be at the bottom ready to catch them. Love is always there, you just have to be able to see it. No words are necessry between loving hearts. November 6, 2007
llllalalalalallllllllllllllllllllLLLLLaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAlalllllla
aaabout to o someth8iiyhin/// August 27, 2007
Without a bunch of words...
...Than rizz-ocks... ...from the T to the H to the A to the N. Dig him, Yo. ;)
Unsu...
August 26, 2007
What IS it about this guy? He approaches slow and unassuming, gets in real close, and then knocks you out with his rapid fire intelligence and humor...
Before you know it you find yourself sitting on his lap and calling him Baby. And then you realize he's one of your Most Trusted Confidants as you seek his opinion in all areas… it’s crazy, and it happens fast. And it doesn’t hurt that he is a freaking babe, either. (Oh yah, there is THAT.) Whoever said “Than Thrall” had it right. And might I also mention here his absolutely uncanny sense of timing? He knows exactly when to call – it’s as if he can sense from across the country (and three time zones) when you need him… or, when you’re having sex.
Unsu...
May 8, 2007
It takes a man with a great deal of self confidence to have a section titled "Hello and Welcome Once Again" in his profile. Somehow, coming from him, it doesn't seem arrogant but rather fitting. I suppose I am another victim of "Than Thrall".
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Through the years, I have learned that there is no harm in charging oneself up with delusions between moments of valid inspiration.
Once again to this lonely isle, 700 miles at sea and from anywhere. The plan to hoist a few sleep inducing brews before boarding the 1:15 AM flight from Denver was foiled by everybody else having gone home by the time I arrived, and so it was with unsettling sobriety that we raced the sun to Georgia. As the Atlanta airport smoking pit was directly adjacent the gate for Bermuda, three bleary episodes of The Wire (season 3) and as many Spirits saw us onto our final leg without incident. The latest Field Test, that of the Amazing Electronic Cigarette, proved an unqualified success, and was undoubtedly responsible for the small seat-kicking Indian child behind me being now alive. Linda is in NYC this week, so it was Dave alone who collected me at flight's end and whisked me off to the Swizzle for the traditional Raising of the Glass, his car cooling in the lot. There had been some question as to whether the car would be serviceable by today, having spent the last few days not being repaired, but it may well be that simply adding a quart of Coolant to the radiator instead of the perfectly reasonable Water may be the answer. I do like these easily addressed problems, as opposed to those multi-variable and you never really know what was wrong or what fixed it ones. Westlands is looking as idyllic and lived in as ever, and the new dog Luna is an energetic delight, as a few energetic tests easily proved. We observed the tradition of flinging ourselves into the ocean, hit the superette, and took the dogs into the fields where Dave's tenant farmers don't mind if he wanders in and pulls a few ears of corn. Bermuda Day is Sunday, so tomorrow we jump in Dave's boat and scout Horseshoe Island for the following day's festivities, then catch the closing performance of a play a friend's in. Sunday it's beer boating and sandwiches, but Martin's in Czechoslovakia on holiday and it won't be the same without Martin getting drunkenly outrraged at some point towards the end. Crombie also arranged to be not about this go round, as did Dave's very manly (just ask him) brother Rob, so it may be up to me to both triumph at Risk and provide imbalanced embarrassment. Not today, thankfully, as I'm just not up to it, certainly not both. Ah, but I've got weeks yet. In Santa Monica there is a cinema for indie type fare, the NuArt. The description below the title says it all for me. This is LA. The Corner of Concupiscence Passion's Perimiter The White Cliffs of Lover Try it, it's fun
Off I go for a week in what Steve Martin called The Retirement Community for the Young. The last time I was there, Bush 1 invaded Iraq. Wonder what'll happen this time.
Sat, March 14, 2009 - 10:44 AM
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