Wolf in the Breast

(It's a song! Sometimes, even in MargaretLand, a cigar is just a cigar.)

Hey, this is me: I am wearing brown stockings and a purple skirt. I have washed my hair (orgasmically clean). I am not doing what I am supposed to be doing. For dinner I had a lot of diet soda and sugar free jello, and I think I'm beginning to feel rather ill.

Watch out! I am the least conspicuous bandit ever!

Did you know that someone once stole an axe and a hacksaw from our garage? We stopped leaving the garage door gaping open at night. I love that story.

My room is FILTHY!

Okay, here are some pictures of me. Everyone loves pictures and if not, I'll just pretend. I have specially selected these ... no, wait. Ha, well, at the least they should make you laugh.

If you thought I was lovely, you're right. I am, in fact, tremendously stunning. Not to mention modest! And I certainly know how to flatter myself with the camera. Verily, I am the height of elegance. It's okay if it doesn't make any sense, but I am very intently making robot people.

Eyes, teeth, a broken neck, hair in light, and eyes again.

2002-12-12, Wolf in the Breast

before / after

archives / website / hello book / diaryland