Cause I'm sick of your mouth and your two-percent milk
--Mo: Looks way too skinny to be durable, according to the baseball prospectus in 1996 (about the all-time saves recordholder and future Hall-of-Famer, now 41 and still lights-out). I think all writing ought to be like the writing in this here document, forever and ever.
--Jo: There's a blog I read called A Cup of Jo. I kind of love her -- fresh, sweet, interesting, full of gorgeousness. It's almost always an upper for me. But then a small and ugly part of me sometimes kind of hates how fabulous she is; surely the Germans have a word for this conflicting emotion. ACOJ never approaches Gwyneth-flavor smugness -- she's not that way, at all. But everything is so perfect, so design-y; her friends are all these wealthy-looking work-at-home-in-fabulous-cities types; there always happen to be professional-quality photos of professional-quality photo-ready Perfect Moments ... it just (through no real fault of hers) sometimes manages to make me feel bad for eating takeout for dinner and watching TV on the couch instead of biking across the Brooklyn Bridge for a lovely dinner with some lovely friends at a lovely little bistro, you know?
--ROWE: We bout to do this up in my work, y'all. End of this month. HOLY SHITCAKES.