On my way home today I passed a woman with ghost white blown-out hair, powder-pale and with bright red lips, clutching her long leather coat around her shoulders; I suddenly felt the irresistible urge to break into the Cruella De Vil song.
(Yes, I cheated with the semicolon. Bite me.)
On hearing Talib Kweli’s song “Ms. Hill”, I thought initially that he was talking about Anita Hill.
(I did figure it out once he started making references to the Fugees….)
Well, sure I march to the beat of my own drummer…but I swear my drummer’s has ADD.
This morning’s fellow jaywalkers across Durant Avenue included a homeless man and a squirrel.
My father has come and gone and left a small collection of (mostly full) bottled water in his wake.
* I’ve been collecting single sentence summaries of notable–well, impressions, for lack of a better word–for some time now. This one is from today, and I decided it would be a good way to launch the series. We’ve seen my father once before, in “Aged People”.