Friday, November 26, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Picking your nose: for the grandkids
This poem is by Shel Silverstein:
Inside everybody’s nose
There lives a sharp-toothed snail.
So if you stick your finger in,
He may bite off your nail.
Stick it farther up inside,
And he may bite your ring off.
Stick it all the way, and he
May bite the whole darn thing off.
Inside everybody’s nose
There lives a sharp-toothed snail.
So if you stick your finger in,
He may bite off your nail.
Stick it farther up inside,
And he may bite your ring off.
Stick it all the way, and he
May bite the whole darn thing off.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
President in my city
First of all, there is no way this is my city. The Salvation Army hostel we checked into for 5 dollars a night was filled with equally ambitious, equally sweaty, and equally non-original travelers. Nothing stirs up the mud in my vision of individual experience like a bunch of tourists crowding the same streets I'm crowding. Not to mention the 20 odd million people who have sense enough to reside here permanently. Clearly, Mumbai is not my city. But, it is not Obama's either, and he drove through it, right past our crowded touristy hostel, and kept us from our room for several hours. Poor guy needs an entourage to get him anywhere. I'm glad I'm not the president.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
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