disconnected

Waiting at the Davis platform, I fell into my routine of checking to see exactly how late I would be today.

I left my timepiece at home!

In other words, my cell phone!

of course, there probably won't be a single missed call on it when I get home...

I get here, and my boss has left me Munchkins, (as in the donuts, not Steve Jackson gamers).
Hence she probably noticed that I was late today... then again, merely late for waiting on the eternal printer queue, so no biggie. Making it up by working late seems to be sufficient.

[RTO] Spiritual Sensuality

All the lusty passages in Song of Solomon (chapter 4, mostly) are delivered as floral metaphors, smell and taste of flora, not even describing heaving breasts as hills that skip like sheep. ok, sheep are mentioned. Breasts are not, just pomegranates.

Searching online will get you a whole lotta Toni Morrison, or Xian sites that I suspect are run by people who'd like to burn me at the stake if only Wrath of God were still legal. Besides, there's only about 23846308745630478563 different versions of the..., er, First Testament of the post-Zoroastrians out there.

Anyway, find a Bible, just about any flavor will do, flip to Song of Songs, and see for yourself.

Try not to get the pages stuck together, you perv.