It was ever so gently pointed out to me in an email that I'd been remiss of late in my proposals to impossibly famous (or not-so-famous) men who don't even know I'm alive. So, in keeping with the spirit of my quest:
Hey, Ian Rankin, will you marry me?
Hey, Ian Rankin, will you marry me?
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Daily Dose of my own cultural illiteracy
For some reason this morning, I thought of that guy we shared the dungeon-like attic closet with at Tech. The one you simultaneously kept perpetually off-balance and in a state of hopelessly unconsumatable (Is that a word? did I just invent a new word?) crush. What the heck was his name???????????
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Re: Daily Dose of my own cultural illiteracy
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Martin Brown, where are you?
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Re: Daily Dose of my own cultural illiteracy
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Re: Daily Dose of my own cultural illiteracy