Blessed Are The Meek, For To Them

The Winter Woman Is As Wild As A Blizzard, As Fresh As New Snow. While Some See Her As Cold, She Has A Fiery Heart Under That Ice-queen Exterior. She Likes The Stark Simplicity Of Japanese Art And The Daring Complexity Of Russian Literature. She Prefers Sharp To Flowing Lines, Brooding To Pouting, And Rock And Roll To Country And Western. Her Drink Is Vodka, Her Car Is German, Her Analgesic Is Advil. The Winter Woman Likes Her Men Weak And Her Coffee Strong. She Is Prone To Anemia, Hysteria, And Suicide.

...then He Looked At My T-shirt And Saw Byron's Picture On It And He Quoted "she Walks In Beauty," Which Is Like My Favorite Poem Next To The One By Baudelaire About His Girlfriend Being Nothing But Worm Food, Except That Lily Called That One First Because Baudelaire Is Her Fave Poet And So She Got The Shirt With Him On It, Even Though Byron Is Way More Scrumptious And I Would Do Him On Sharp Gravel If I Had The Chance. --from The Chronicles Of Abby Normal

[in Reference To Turkey Bowling] He [tommy] Squinted And Picked His Target, Then Took His Steps And Sent The Bird Sliding Down The Aisle. A Collective Gasp Rose From The Crew As The Fourteen-pound, Self-basting, Fresh-frozen Projectile Of Wholesome Savory Goodness Plowed Into The Soap Bottles Like A Freight Train Into A Chorus Line Of Drunken Grandmothers.

How Could You Deal With A Creature As Devious As Woman.

Diogenes Carried A Bowl With Him For Years, But One Day Saw A Man Drinking From His Cupped Palm And Declared, ‘i Have Been A Fool, Burdened All These Years By The Weight Of A Bowl When A Perfectly Good Vessel Lay At The End Of My Wrist.