Uh, yay? I didn't want it, anyway. I gave it to my son. He was more hung up on that royalty gig than I was.

Ironically, we really were just drinking coffee.

I was making plans to have coffee with Maglor when my father popped in and invited me to go fishing with him. You see, according to some, sitting on a pier or in a boat and using long sticks to fling a plastic string attached to a colorful fish-like toy or crucified worm into the water in the often vain hope that some poor creature with gills-- ( Read more... )

I've only just realized, but all of this puts a very disturbing spin on my father's frequent offering of, "Coffee?"

Well, well, well, aren't we the happy little troupe.

My fatherAlways smiling, always cheerful. Kind of creepy. He spent the better part of my childhood and teenage years trying to interest me in sports. I wanted to stay home and buff my nails, but instead he'd drag me off to Little League practice and games and force me to wear the hideous ( Read more... )

I'm pretty.