Saturday, April 30, 2011

Failure to communicate

Today I heard that in Buffalo, New York two prison guards got suspended WITH PAY after getting into a fight with each other over food. Can you believe it? It happened inside the cafeteria at the prison. And guess who had to step in and break them apart? Yep, you guessed it. A prisoner. Are you kidding me? Because I know if two prisoners had gotten into a fight at the cafeteria over food, they would have gotten their hiney’s kicked in from here to kingdom come, and then some, and then they would've gotten tossed into solitary confinement with no privileges for like the next 30 days or something. Come on, man. You gotta be kidding me. Suspended WITH PAY. You know what, if I ever get a job that suspends me with pay for getting into fist-fights with one my co-workers, I'm gonna go wearing boxing gloves to work and kick someone's ass every day. Bring it on world! I'm like the Bengali Mike Tyson. :)

Friday, April 29, 2011

The new Aishwarya Rai

Me at my dad's place. In Bradford, England.

Look at me trying to be a Bollywood actress. The next Aishwarya Rai. Now all I need to do is bust out singing, and then at some point start crying. :)

The Old man and the Sea

After getting back from the beach, my bikini top still wet with ocean water, my friend, Jerry, who lives in New York, calls me on my cell phone. Now Jerry, mind you, is like 96 years old with a face that looks like a bulldog. He's been married since the dawn of the ice age, which God knows was a long time ago, and he has 8 kids, over 20 grandkids, and even a handful of great-grandkids. The first thing he asks me when I answer the phone is "What are you wearing, my dear?" And I'm thinking, "Is he asking me this cuz he's being a dirty old man? or is it because it's hot in Florida and a question like that is a normal thing to ask?"

"The usual," I answer.

"Next to nothing I hope."

Then he starts talking about the weather and his friend who said it's hot in Florida in the summer and the condo on the beach that he's planning to buy so he can stay close to me when he visits.

Which means he's a very caring guy and a good friend of mine. . . or he's trying to get in my pants!

Kissing makes me hungry

Prince William and Princess Kate's kiss.
Did you guys see Prince William and Princess Kate's kiss this morning? I did. And it made me think of something my friend said to me a while back. He said, "I'm sitting here looking through the Guiness Book of World Records and I see here that it says that the longest kiss went on for something like 29 hours. I know, I know," he said. "I've got way too much time on my hands, but I think it's a record I could break."

But the whole time he was talking, I was thinking, "29 hours of kissing? Are you for real? Did they eat or go to the bathroom or anything? Cuz I would be starving and pissing my pants if I had to be stuck to someone's face for 29 hours." 

Anyway, the kiss between Prince William and Princess Kate was fantastic. Short and sweet. Just the way I like it. Unlike the 29 hour thing.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Reading the fineprint

I read in the paper today that in a certain county in Florida the crime rate dropped by 4.9% in 2010. Sounds good right? WRONG. Because the paper went on the say that the crime rate dropped by 4.9% in 2010 EXCEPT for rape and burglaries. WTF!!! Are you kidding me? Except for rape and burglaries? Who gives a shit about those other crimes, I want rape and burglaries to go down, and crimes like kidnapping and murder. Unbelievable. It's funny how the crime rate goes down except when it comes to the 2 crimes that we women care about.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Under the Florida sun

The first thing I did when I got onto the beach in Fort Myers was to unfurl my towel on the sand. Well, actually, no, that's wrong. The first thing I did was to look hot as hell walking to beach in my bikini and posh sunglasses. The second thing I did was to unfurl my towel on the sand. But after I unfolded my towel on the sand and sat on it, I felt something hard underneath my rear end. "What's that?" I wondered. I moved the towel and -- guess what? - - there in the sand was a dewyah, an oversized wooden spoon. "Ha-ha," I said to myself out loud, barely able to contain myself, laughing harder and harder and thinking of my mum. Because I knew that in a Bengali household, the real purpose of a deywah is to beat up your kids when they are disobedient. And trust me, I got a lot of those beatings back in the day. Then I thought, "Some Bengali family must have come here on vacation with their bunch of naughty kids and had to carry this weapon with them; otherwise what would it be doing here on the beach? It's not like you can sit here and cook curry with it or something, which no doubt if a Bengali family had the opportunity to do they probably would have." :)

Dear Mother-in-law,

Saturday. April 23, 2011

"I'm dropping the kids off today," I said to my mother-in-law. "We're going to Fort Myers beach."

"Oh, okay," my mother-in-law said. "That's fine. What time will you be leaving?"

"Shortly. We'll probably be at your place round 9am."

"All right. Then see ya around 9."

When I dropped the kids off, I handed her their stuff in a bag and an instruction list for the baby. She took the list from my fingers and started reading:

1.) Make sure diaper not changed

2.) Make sure he doesn't kill his sister

3.) Don't let him pick his nose with more than two fingers

4.) Make sure he stays in deep end of pool

5.) Don't let him steal more than two lollipops at the same time

6.) Don't let him stick his tongue out in public; only if they're ugly

7.) Don't let him throw his food about; only if they're having a snowball fight

8.) And good luck! I wrote. We won't be back.

Friday, April 22, 2011

The birdcage

The sunlight of the morning falls aslant through the window across my face, and when I open my eyes, I see an image of you. 

What are you doing when I'm not there? I wonder. Do you think of me? Or wonder if I'm doing the same? I wish I could snap my fingers and magically be by your side in a flash, or gather the strength to break the boundaries that separate us with a giant hammer. This war, this senseless fight over nothing, is wearing me thin and I wish it were over. Oh, how I pray that one side or the other wins and declares victory. Then we could get on with our lives and pick up where we left off.

Do you miss me, my heart? I miss you. The walls of this prison are cold and lonely and the bars that cover my only window to the outside world remind me of a birdcage. Oh, my darling, if only I were a bird in a birdcage, then I could soar straight to your very door, and you could rub on my head with your forefinger while I sing to you sweet songs of happiness and desire.

Now, the sun is falling from the sky like a giant millstone and the light from the stars are starting to pockmark the waves of the ocean which surround me. A brig in no place for a woman, my dear. And I hope you'll never have to endure one. The conditions are loathsome, much like one of Dante’s hell circles, icky and vile, and the solitary confinement of my abode is worse than the afterlife in a coffin.

Oh, my heart, I heard the guard talking to one of his commanders; the war rages and there is no end in sight; and there’ll be no happy endings for me. I know that now. Because things like happy endings only happen on the big screen. And since I’m not a famous actress or a made up character in a storybook, all hope lies at the bottom of a deep well. Alas, the guard comes with a key for the lock. So please don’t forget me as I’ve never forgotten you.

The boy who would be king

My 2 year old boy thinks he's a king. If I say, "Where's king so and so?" he says, "Right here," and points to himself. Ha ha. But the other day when we were reading a book about King Arthur and I said, "Look, there's King Arthur's crown," pointing to his head. "Every king has a crown," my son put his hands on top of his head while wearing a questioning look on his face and said, "Where's my crown, mama? Where's mine?"

Thursday, April 21, 2011

No fun in the sun

Earlier today, my little two year old boy walked outside to where the patio is, picked up the handle of the hose that is next to the side of the house, threw it down with a shocked look on his face and said, "Ouch, mama. That's too hot. Where's shade?"

"Over there," I pointed to where the nearest tree was.

When he reached the tree, he, while still standing with his feet in the sun, stuck his hand in the shade part and said, "Ahhhh, that's nice and cold, mama. That's better."

Slasher movies

I've watched enough slasher movies in my day to know that, when you're camping in a lonely, dark woods with your young, hot friends, in the middle of freaking nowhere, you don't say, "Hey guys. I have to go pee," and then walk like 300 yards into the pitch black beyond until you find a cozy spot near some scary tree to relieve yourself. Hell no! Are you kidding me? Because if I'm ever out camping in the middle of nowhereville and I have to go pee, I'm not even leaving the tent. I don't care. I'll either hold it or go right on my sleeping bag. :)

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Burgers galore

So my friend, after have one too many cocktails, sees this restaurant sign that says $1 burgers. So she goes in, places an order for like 10 burgers because, after all, they were only $1. After eating, the waitress brings over the bill and it's nearly $30.

"What the heck is this?" my friend says. "I thought these were dollar burgers.

"No, no," says the waitress. "Where did you hear that?"

"It says so on your sign."

"What sign?" the waitress said.

"The one out front," my friend answered.

"No, no," the waitress said. "It doesn't say $1 burgers on the sign, it says #1 burger, the name of the restaurant."

Blah blah blah

"Why aren't you more like so and so’s daughters?” my mum said. “They don’t do anything wrong. They wear their hijabs. They don’t do any—”

“Yeah they do!” I said. “You just don’t see it. You lot are never around. Sure, they wear their hijabs, but as soon as they step off the bus for school they tear ’em off and make out with boys. At least I don’t do that, at least I’m not as bad as those girls are.”

“Yeah, well, forget about those girls then. Just do your namaz.” Your prayers. “It’s almost time for Maghrib.” The prayer we do after sunset.

The hairy man

I’m into guys with facial hair. Which is why I like Hugh Jackman. I saw him in India recently. I really wish he hadn’t shaved. L Anyway, I used to with I was Beauty, you know, from Beauty and the Beast, so I could spend a night with beast.

My mum, the Bangladeshi bathroom mime

My mum always said that it was haram or forbidden to talk while in the bathroom. In fact, it seems as though all Bengalis subscribe to this philosophy. Which explains why, when I was a little kid, whenever I went into the bathroom to ask something of my mum while she was in there, she'd always use these little hand gestures, as if she was a deaf mute or something, or some type of Bangladeshi mime, just moving her hands around, shaking her head, her lips moving but without any sound. Like one of those satanic persons in the movies whose head’s about to do a 360. Anyway, that's my mum, the Bangladeshi bathroom mime.

Saying Goodbye

The wind whispers its way through the branches of a nearby tree and I stand on the corner watching your talilights, as I dab the corners of my eyes with a kleenex.

A Prince to the rescue

Have you ever seen Aladdin? I loved it. I used to picture myself as Jasmine, the beautiful princess, waiting in some lonely castle for my prince to arrive on his magic carpet and take me away. To where, I don't know. Anywhere, I suppose. Just somewhere away from my big fat Bengali life. But that never happened. Because, as my mum said, "Life isn't a magic wand or lamp."

Valentine's Day

For valentine's day, a few years ago, in addition to the flowers and candies and presents of all shapes and sizes, including two gift certificates to Macy's, I got a giant stuffed animal Gorilla that held a cute heart in it's hands that read, "I heart you more than bananas."

Don't break my heart

When I was in upper school, some boy handed me this heart pillow and said, "Here's my heart. Don't break it." So I said, "Okay," then stabbed it with a pair of scissors.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

One sin leads to another

Growing up, we had a pay phone in our home. Do you believe it? Yes, a pay phone. You see, my dad had this crazy idea that we, me and my sisters, might grow up to call boys one day and he figured a pay phone was the best way to prevent us. Well, to the contrary of his beliefs, it didn't prevent me in the least; actually it made me sin even more because then I had to nick money out of my dad's jacket pocket or out of the charity can for needy to make the phone calls. lol

Saturday, April 16, 2011

A story, a story

Some woman told me this story today. She said she heard it from a guy named Elvis. Elvis said, "Once upon a time there was this old feller who, at the age of 78, was walking out back the lee of a rocky hilltop. The sun was out and the clouds in the sky passed o'erhead as if they were breezy ghosts. Off to the side was a stream and the broken tree that fell the week before after getting struck by lightning and the muddy bank that was a refuse bin for teenagers' litter.

I think I'll make me way to the stream, thought the old man, stroking his long beard that hadn't been trimmed for ages. Yeah, to the stream, he thought. I'll sit there by the stream and dip me feet in the water while looking at the sky.

The man walked toward the water.

On his way, he heard a voice. 'Oh, kiss me! Kiss me!' said the voice. 'Please kiss me! Kiss me!'

The man stopped, looked around, and then, seeing nothing, continued on his way.

'Oh, kiss me, kiss me,' said the voice again in the same manner as before.

The man looked around. He listened. The only thing he saw was a green bullfrog.

'Oh, kiss me,' said the green bullfrog.

The man bent over. Scooped up the bullfrog with his right hand. 'A talking bullfrog,' he commented.

'Yep, that's me,' said the bullfrog. 'You see, I was once a beautiful young lady, the most beautiful in fact in the whole world. But a witch captured me, put a spell on me, and turned me into this hideous monster. And then she stored me in a shoebox for 150 years. Can you believe it? A freakin shoebox!' The bullfrog paused. 'I only just escaped.'

'I see,' said the old man.

'So if you could kiss me,' the bullfrog puckered up it's lips, 'the spell will be broken and I'll change back into a gorgeous young woman who'll marry you and make all your wildest dreams come true.'

The old man smiled. Turned and made his way toward home.

At home he set the bullfrog on the counter, went to the closet where the shoes were, and came back with a shoebox.

'What's that?' said the bullfrog. 'What are you doing? Aren't you gonna kiss me?'

'Let me tell ye something,' said the old man to the bullfrog, 'and I mean ye no disrespect by it, but at my age, honey, I'd rather have a talking frog than a fox.'

With that, the old man put the bullfrog in the shoebox. He made some coffee and smoked a cigarette. He drank his coffee and read the newspaper. He went to bed."


Tuesday, April 12, 2011

My father and his camel

My father on his camel at Hajj in Saudi Arabia.
I remember my dad showing me this picture when I was little, after he had just gotten back from Hajj. "Is that your Camel, Abba?" I said. "He's so big! Did you buy him? How come you didn't bring him with you?"

"I did bring him with me," my dad said, rubbing his tummy with his right hand and smiling.

"What do you mean?" I asked, wondering just what the heck he was talking about. I mean, I know I was young and naive back then, but I know no camel could fit inside my dad's belly.

"Pieces of him, anyway," my dad said.


"I ate him," he said. "I bought him to get around on, just list the prophet did, and then sacrificed him and ate him just like the prophet did. Well, me and a few others actually."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"You ate him?" I asked.

My dad nodded.

I looked at the picture — at the camel's long neck, at the pretty colors adorning it.

Then I cried.

"What are you crying for?" my dad said. "I followed the tradition of the prophet. Aren’t you happy about that? I went to God’s home and ate just like the prophet did." Then my dad turned to my mum and said, "Can I have some rice now? I’m starving here." Then walked away toward the front room, leaving me with the picture of a once great beast that was now in pieces inside my dad's belly.

A rubber Johnny

When I was younger, I remember scrounging around my mum and dad's bedroom  for loose change, so that I could make a phone call. (yes, we had a pay phone in the house, okay. My dad had this crazy idea that we, his daughters, might one day decide to call boys, so he had it installed to prevent us). Well, on this one day I couldn't find any change in their room, so I looked under their mattress. And there, under the place where my parents sleep and make babies, was this thing made of the same material as a shower curtain that looked a lot like a condom. It was long like a dildo and apparently one of those things that you could wash and reuse. To say I freaked out, screamed like a spider just jumped on the tip of my nose, dropped the mattress and ran outta there to the bathroom to wash my hands a 100 times, even though I didn't touch it would be an understatement. I think I told my sister, but she refused to believe that such things even exist, and waved it off with a simple shake of her head and a "Yuck, big sister. How could you even think such things?" Now that I look back on it, I think to myself, "Did I really see that? Was that thing really that thick?" cuz that thing was thicker than a rubber glove, I tell ya. And I know my mum and dad must not have not felt a thing. God, my dad might as well have worn a pvc pipe around his thingy.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Twenty Questions

1. What's your happiest childhood memory?
Mine is spending time on my grandma's rooftop in Bangladesh when I was a kid. We'd sit on morahs, two round, woven seats made of cane and bamboo, and she'd do my hair for me, and then at night we'd lie on our backs, with our eyes pointed at the stars, and she'd ask me silly questions about England.
2. What movie do you watch again and again?
Indecent Proposal
3. Who is your favorite dead politician?
All of them. Because they're dead - - exactly where politicians should be. LOL.
4. Name a time when you got into big trouble with your parents?
When I served my dad some tea and he saw the hickey on my neck that my boyfriend gave me. He said, "Who do you think I am? You think I don't know what's going on?" Whack. "What's that on your neck?" "It's nothing," I said. Then whack.
5. Can you fake any accents?
I can fake orgasms.
6. Most hated chore in the house?
Getting the hubby to do something.
7. Name one thing that people may not know about you?
I was born in a remote village during Bangladesh's liberation war on a dirt floor in a rainstorm.
8. What is your earliest memory?
Walking hand in hand with my dad in the park next to our home.
9. Name one thing you miss about being a kid?
My dad treated me better than my brothers.
10. Who was your enemy or the bully when you were young?
The younger of my two brothers. He's always used to slug me in the arm or take my dolls and bury them in the back garden.
11. When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?
A nurse. They had such cool outfits.
12. When and with whom was your first kiss?
Back in the early 80s with a kid named Sheepu. He had 3 spots or birthmarks on his face that resembled constellations and his glasses were like the bottom parts of glass bottles.
13. What is your worst dating experience?
Bengali girls don't date. They go to Bangladesh and get forced to marry some older guy.
14. What would you like to have for your last meal?
Chocolate of course!
15. If your house was on fire, what three things would you grab before leaving?
My shoes, my credit card, and my kid.
16. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say as you enter the through the pearly gates?
Hey, Moses, here's that Bengali girl whose name is missing the c.
17. What is your purpose in life?
Well, according to my mum, it's to be under a man's feet.
18. What would be your dream job?
The female version of Hugh Heffner.
19. Worst roommate you ever had?
My hubby.
20. You wouldn't be caught dead, where?

Friday, April 8, 2011

PETAs Sexiest Vegetarian Next Door 2011

PETAs Sexiest Vegetarian Next Door 2011

On Monday, April 11th please go to PETAs website and vote for me! In the search box you can type in my name, Luky, or click on the following link:  

Thursday, April 7, 2011

This New Diet

So I'm on this new diet, and it says you can eat as much greens as you like, but hell no do I wanna eat freaking grass all day like cow. Are you kidding me? I need my rice and potatoes, you know. I don't just wanna munch on grass like a cow. Because that's what cows do. Not me I tell ya. A girl like me has to eat, not once or twice or even three times a day, but multiple times throughout the day. And that's not even counting snacks! This diet shit, I tell ya. It's for the birds.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

More Haikus, Bengali Style

Even if the oceans were of ink

my pen would run dry

before expressing my love to you on paper.

The cat, after he catches his dinner,

plays with it in the same manner that

a young child does.

I stand near the lintel of my door waiting for you

to come home. But I know you won't because they told me

you died in the battle.

Even in my old age I can still hear the little

footsteps of our children across the

hardwoods floors in the morning.

A squirrel races up his tree with a nut and the wind blows

westerly across my face. I wonder why my life can't be

as simple where I just fetch nuts all day and climb trees.

The call of the wild is strong

on Elsa, although she never forgets

her human family.

The poet tells us not to go gentle into that

good night and I sure as hell won't. But we

all know that death still has the upper hand over us.

I look out the window and see

a bird in his birdbath. He sings his song and

does not even realize the cat who is about to pounce on him.

Many years have gone by and

even though the passage of time has erased the memory

of your name, the feeling of magic we shared that night remains.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Klondike bars and Rent-a-Kids

I tell ya, there's nothing better than biting into a freezing cold Klondike bar after working out for two hours at the gym. Well, can you blame me? After all, all we talk about is food during our stretch class, and the whole time my tummy is going “Yummy, yummy, yummy and more yummy.” Growling like a wolf, wanting to eat everything in sight, including my workout buddies. No offense to Jessica the drill sergeant . . . er, I mean our fitness instructor, who’ll make sure that we work it off the next day in class.

On the way home I wanted to stop at the grocery store but decided not to as I had my naughty little 2 yr old with me who apparently thinks every shop in the world is Toys R Us and expects to get a toy the moment we walk in. Trust me, I didn’t want to deal with that drama and tantrum. Gosh, the saying terrible two's is an understatement when it comes to my 2yr old, who is more akin to saytan than my child. LOL. At times like these I wish I was living in India where they have that rent-a-kid service. Then I could let someone else watch my kid all day and get paid for it. Yes, I would be giving birth non-stop until I had no ovaries left. J How nice would that be? :) Getting paid to let someone else watch your kid.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Fun in the sun

Well, I've finally gotten over the fear of that Gator who was in my yard a while back, although I still scan the perimeter like the terminator before going to my car, as I don’t want my size 5 foot to get bitten off, even though my size 5 foot obviously wouldn't even be considered a snack for even a newborn gator.

Anyway, I went the pool yesterday and lay in the sun to get roasted; meanwhile thinking of what my mother would have said if she ever caught me doing this: "Bengali girls don't wear those next-to-nothing-things that barely covers their mangs (their coochies) and bake for no reason in the sun when there’s housework to be done.” Bengalis also generally believe that if a girl is not fair in complexion then she's ugly, so that is why we are supposed to avoid the sun, which is good I guess if you don't want the wrinkle / leather skin / skin cancer and all the other good stuff that comes with it. And that is why when I visit Bangladesh, I have to take white face powder and pale foundation for all my cousins and aunties because everybody wants to be light-skinned over there, and they all want their faces to be like the Geisha girls' faces. But it’s funny because once their faces are white their necks and arms don’t match. LOL. So in thinking of all this I didn't stay too long .

When I got home I was feeling a little bit unsettled in my mind and had to do something with myself, so when the baby and hubby took a nap, I snuck out to the mall and got my shopping fix on. And no, I am not a shopaholic. I just had to buy more gifts for my family for when I go back to see them. After all, they DO EXPECT me to bring treasures from America, even though England stuff is better quality. Anyway, it was a nice day and everything ended well.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

So I've been shopping for bargains the past two days like a nut-case because I will be going to see my family in England this summer. And trust me, I have the largest family EVER. You know, sometimes I wish my sisters were not so fertile and would keep their legs crossed so I didn't have to shop all day for my 23 nieces and nephews and all my brothers and sisters and son-in-laws and parents. It's bad enough when you have dual citizenship (American and British) because you're known as the AMERICAN of the family and designer wear is expected. Anyway, I love to shop at TJ MAXX, Ross and Marshall's because they have great deals.

You know yesterday I made out like a Bandit on Ralph Lauren Polo T's. I swear they made a mistake on the pricing, but I wasn't going to say anything to them. Hell no, I told myself. Losers weepers, finders keepers is what I say. So I maxed out my credit card. "Well," I  said to myself, "it's almost 9pm. I'll come back tomorrow to clean out the rest." But when I went back today, guess what? all the prices were changed. "Shit," I thought, "someone caught onto it." I guess it was that weired looking cashier because as I was checking out the items he kept saying, "Wow, what a good price! Wow, what a really good price," and all I kept thinking was "Please keep your trap quiet because I don't want the manager to come and raise the prices or something," even though he couldn't because I would have had to really put my foot down, all size 5 of it. LOL.

Well, I was very much disappointed over the whole thing and felt very sad. My gosh, how shopping can have such an impact on a girl! After that, I came home and had a magarita.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Editing my manuscript

So I'm editing my book, Bengali Girls Don't, for the thirteen-billionth time, trying hard to fix any inconsistencies or anything that is unclear. It's going good. It's just that every time I change something in the book I have to go back and read it from the beginning of the chapter or, if it's a big change, from the beginning of the book. Oh, why does it have take so long for? Note to blog reader: this is where you give me a pat on the back and tell me everything will be okay; no, not a pat on the backside, LOL, the back. Anyway, trying to make everything in the book clear is my number one goal. I want to make sure that everything comes across to the reader in the way that I intended it to. That's why it's so important for me to have good feedback. It helps me eliminate lots of fog.

Friday, April 1, 2011


It rained all dang day in Tampa yesterday. To say I was waterlogged would be an understatement. The roadways were horrible, my makeup was runny, and the inside of my car got wet every time I opened my car door to get in or out. Being locked in the house or the car all day with a terrible two year old is no picnic, let me tell you. I had such a terrible headache, but that could have been because my two year old hit me over the head with a plastic toy train while we were waiting to pick up an old friend at the airport. :( Anyway, today was a much better day except for the fact I still felt under the weather (all week I've been battling a cold). It took till about six o'clock in the evening for me to get going and get out of the house and get my rear end to the mall to return some items, buy some new items, and try on some other items just for kicks (things that look hot on me of course) :) Yeah, things are beginning to look up. But I still feel like I'm dragging ass.

A Haiku, Bengali Style

Your smile is the sunshine of my morning

and your kiss is the moonlight

on my sleeping face.

(c) L.A. Sherman March 31, 2011