Ten Minutes of Last Friday

I RETURN...to blogging, not innocence. And there is no such thing as innocent blogging.

Meanwhile, an account must be taken of a strange span of ten minutes last weekend, wherein we went to see off an old college friend (Hi Jack! Please do not become a Southern politician. Use the law, become one with it, Law Incarnate...make the legal system your bitch, but never boastfully. JK - I know this you would not do.)...then speaking with another Cathy of Lan-dom, a Cathy who exists in genetic duplicate due to her twin's survival (hey, as it turns out, lots of us start out with them in the womb but only so many make it out alive...way to go, fetal friendlies). Somehow the conversation turned to the two of them in the womb, not wanting to hurt one another, but quite the opposite (unless you are a SUPAH-freak, set on asfixiation fetal erotica). Oh no, these twins got along possibly too well, so the story goes. And this is where we got probably too into the whole thing. We decided things such as: they flirted with one another there in their bearer's cervix, coyly twitching their not-fully-formed eye blobs at one another, experimenting with rubbing on the host being's ribs and bladder, making the tiniest little O-faces ever for our species. By the third trimester, they were pole dancing on their mother's spine (hence leading to very little stress about the whole stepping on a crack thing), and doing outlandishly suggestive things with their umbilical cords.

At this point, my lovely Corinna materialized in the Magician (a bar) from the bathroom, making it the second consecutive night we randomly ran into each other.

Mark - ten minutes.