Wench
Member since February, 2009Contact me
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About me
If I could have one person read my writing on SMITH it would be?
Omi.
What six words would I tell my teen self if I could go back in time?
Sorry, hon. Those boobs don't grow.
The song that encapsulates the soundtrack of my life is?
Baltimore, by Eddie from Ohio.
If you were to throw up your hands in exasperation and yell "it's the story of my life," what would you be talking about?
Spilling something on myself.
Besides SMITH, I read stories at:
Libraries!
In bed I like to read:
No set bedtime material. Beds tend to occupy other parts of my interest.
My favorite story of all time is:
Mine, and it's still in progress.
Right now, I'm reading:
Naming the Child.
Latest Memoir (of 1833):
So where the hell is Gilead?
- So where the hell is Gilead?
- Only one pie she can't swallow.
- True pioneer. Hopped off the wagon.
- We're shells with no ricotta cheese.
- I seem to keep waking up.
- Passed the torch but still burning.
- Reaching into Heaven to hold him.
- My heart, Gabriel, on my sleeve.
- Keep calm and wear Believe hat.
- Nothing tastes good. Long nine months.
- Morning sickness, afternoon sickness, impartial participant.
- Don't worry. This flu isn't contagious.
- Exhausted the resources, the subject, myself.
- Tilled my words along my tongue.
- Penny in a plastic master world.
