Of course, she’s really Papua-New Guinean…

A nod to Kierkegaard and Walker Percy: existentialist tomfoolery, political satire, literary homage, word mongering, a year-round summer reading club, Dylanesque music bits, apocalyptic marianism, poetry, fiction, meta-porn, a prisoner work-release program.
Søren Kierkegaard
Walker Percy
Bob Dylan
Good Country People
Labora / Editions
Sutter's Casebook
Betty Duffy
Bitkin
By Way of Beauty
Charlotte was Both
I Have to Sit Down
The Onion
From Empty Hands
The Fine Delight
First Things
Dappled Things
All Manner of Thing
Gerasene Writers Conference
Scrutinies
Transcendental Musings
The Ironic Catholic
DarwinCatholic
Inside Catholic
Catholic and Enjoying It
Catholic Radio International
Bad Catholic
Universalis
Is My Phylactery Showing?
Quotidian Quintilian
The Lion & The Cardinal (Daniel Mitsui)
Babes in Babylon
Fort o' Tude
Ellen Finnigan
En pocas palabras
William Wilson, Guitarist Extraordinaire
Signposts in a Strange Land
Godspy
Godsbody
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My dad fought so that she could consume that with impunity.
But, can she “shoot” the can?
I can think of three Australians at the moment, two men and a woman, the first lovely, although he may have been corrupted, the second I think, on balance, was nice, the third I suspect not, but, although I could be wrong, I have no interest in finding out.
Then there was the fourth, who I never met, but who made a proposal of marriage, perhaps the only serious one I ever received, via a third party in order to change his citizenship.
Pulchra ut luna, electa ut sol…