This afternoon I walked from a parking lot of Dickey-Stephens Park for 42:21 with Bob Marston, Basil Julian, and a handful of other Little Rock Hash House Harriers.
According to blogspot statisticians, forty-eight people looked at my entry from yesterday, the second most ever. Of them, 38.8 percent were from Russia and 30.7 from Poland. How encouraging. My Pam's Boy password now includes exactly nine-million characters.
Paragraph(s) of the day from A Different Closet
They watched Karen trot up the steps and heard the click of her shoes fade into a soft rumble of traffic.
“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Kelleher said.
“Lardner is convinced I’m not gay,” Keith said. “He thinks everyone’s going to find out, and then all this stuff will backfire on us and destroy everything he and Bobby Green and every participant in the gay right’s movement has accomplished since we finally got cops to stop beating us to death. That’s why he quit.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow. And also, he’s jealous. I think that’s the main thing, though I believe that’ll be a little harder to confirm. He thinks he should be the gay guy running for office.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I can’t help you there.”
They never stopped looking at Karen. She stood at the top of the steps, fifty feet above them, a hundred yards away, her hands tucked firmly in the pockets of her coat. She’d put on a white stocking cap. With the lights of the Arch behind her, they watched clouds of her exhalations form and float away. “You’re right, you know,” Keith said. “She is perfect.”
No comments:
Post a Comment