not really....BUT I AM ENGAGED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :)
i was confronted by a more-than-a-friend-friend the other day on my like for frank sinatra's music.
I ASK YOU: what is the problem with good ole' frank? why must he be ousted from my collection of music? he is relaxing, a gang member, witty, has pretty blue eyes, and he is dead. i enjoy his music and hum along at my favorite bits. so why can't we all be friends and let me listen to frank?
if i can't listen to frank...then i will DEFINATELY listen to country music again...
an exerpt in part from the 12th page of said book containing the characters Tipton Plimsoll (the tall thin one) and Wilfred Allsop (pint-size and fragile and rather like the poet Shelley in appearance):
"The officer hurried off, and Tipton gazed after him, awed.
'What marlarkey people talk about the New York police being brutal,' he said. 'Brutal, my left eyeball. I never met a sweeter guy, did you?'
'Never.'
'You can hear the milk of human kindness sloshing about inside him.'
'Distinctly.'
'It wouldn't surprise me to find he'd started life as a Boy Scout.'
'Nor me.'
'It shows how silly it is to go by people's looks. It's not his fault that he's no oil painting.'
'Of course not.'
'And what is beauty, after all?'
'Exactly. Skin deep, I often say.'
'So do i, frequently.'
'It's the heart that counts.'
'Every time. And his is as big as the Yankee Stadium.'"