[9345] in SIPB IPv6

home help back first fref pref prev next nref lref last post

Fwd: !

daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Anne Hopper)
Mon Nov 19 15:03:53 2007

From: "Anne Hopper" <sigismondkyu-sung@caccchoir.org>
To: "Sipb-whats" <sipb-whats@mit.edu>
Date: Mon, 19 Nov 2007 15:02:26 -0500 (EST)

<html>
<body     bgcolor="#FFFFF0"           text="#000003">
<p><b><font           size="3"           color="#FF0004">R</font></b><br>
<b><font                                         size="3"             color="#FF0008">O</font></b><br>
<b><font                                   size="3"                        color="#FF0006">L                 </font></b>Full                     18K                  Gold                                 Daytona  -                        $269.00<br>
<font                                     size="3"><b><font            color="#FF0000">E</font></b></font><br>
<b><font                                   size="3"        color="#FF0006">X</font></b><br>
</p>
<p>Y<l></l>e<u></u>s    i<b></b>t<l></l>'<u></u>s                                       o<l></l>u<b></b>r                        r<font></font>e<u></u>a<u></u>l                   p<l></l>r<u></u>i<b></b>c<l></l>e<font></font>s,                                   o<font></font>v<l></l>e<u></u>r           1000           models                              just                                    for   you!</p>
<p>Visit                         our                                  s<u></u>h<l></l>o<font></font>p:</p>
<p><a   href="http://081.sogkntewonez.com">http://081.sogkntewonez.com</a></p>
<p><font                  color="#FFFFF0">For them the hurting was over.                 The fear was inside.                                 He saw her driving grimly, going too fast, and then ("He doesn't get it from MY side of the family!                                "She untacked it, and the boy on his sled disappeared Paul watched this happen with an absurd pang of regret.                          Christ, days went by and the hole in the paper was small, the light was dim, the overheard conversations witless.                              Bookings had performed Misery's few last rites in the churchyard which lay behind the rectory, and this fellow had been there — but lurking considerately in the background, where he was less apt to be noticed.               She had dragged him from the wreck of his car and instead of calling the police or an ambulance she had installed him in her guest-room, put IV drips in his arms and a shitload of dope in his body.Fear not to strike
 , Boss Ge'ff'y Hezekiah had said.                                 There were three bottles of Pepsi on the collapsed TV tray.                                       You know I can never let you leave here.                                 Forgetting that would not do at all.                                     The goddess was dead and he was free.</font></p>
<p><font                                color="#FFFFF5">She put her arms about his neck, bringing the firm of her breast more fully into his hand.      Then she just stood there, looking down at him out of her paper-white face, the cords on her neck standing out, one vein pulsing in the center of her forehead.         Annie went on laughing and he told himself he wouldn't scream, wouldn't beg; that he was past all that.                ""Can you come up with a hundred and six bucks to go with the four hundred in my wallet?                                        Do you think this is a movie or a TV show and you are getting graded by some audience on your bravery?                                     In the end he was able to squeeze through — barely — by positioning himself squarely in the doorway and then leaning forward enough to grab the jambs of the door in his hands.                                By the time their trash was stashed in the big drum with KEEP YOUR BEACH CLEA
 N stencilled on the side, Paulie's beach-toys picked up (that's my name Paulie I'm Paulie and tonight ma'll put Johnson's Baby Oil on my sunburn he thought inside the thunderhead where he now lived) and the blanket folded again, the piling had almost wholly reappeared, its blackish, slime-smoothed sides surrounded by sudsy scuds of foam.               The hubs of the wheelchair had not actually scored through the paint, as he had feared, but only scuffed it.           "Or there was the case of his friend Gary Ruddman, who worked for the Boulder Public Library.                            They had simply gone back to the old routine, Paul writing, Annie reading each day's output, and enough time had passed between the argument and the thumbectomy that Paul had missed the connection.          Ramage, the Carmichaels»crotchety but lovable old housekeeper, asked him as she came in from the pantry.  I won't need them much longer this winter, though see how it's melting on its own?
                           Suppose that, just this once, the oneHis pencil paused in mid-word at the sound of an approaching engine.                 The bottom of the mower was smeared with blood, particularly around the grass-exhaust, which was still dripping.      "He wasn't telling you they had slapped a lien on your house, Annie — he was telling you they would have to if you didn't cough up by the time the town offices closed tonight.                            He took three dry, then crawled back to the door and lay down against it, blocking it with the weight of his body.                                He could vaguely remember drinking his own piss, how hot it had been, how salty.    He was in Little Dunthorpe's churchyard, breathing damp night air, smelling moss and earth and mist; he heard the clock in the tower of the Presbyterian church strike two and dumped it into the story without missing a beat.       Goodbye to all that, he thought randomly, and then Annie was
  bustling back in with another tray.                                 She was a big woman who, other than the large but unwelconiing swell of her bosom under the gray cardigan sweater she always wore, seemed to have no feminine curves at all — there was no defined roundness of hip or buttock or even calf below the endless succession of wool skirts she wore in the house (she retired to her unseen bedroom to put on jeans before doing her outside chores).         Listed below the divorce of a TV actress and above the death of a Midwestern steel potentate was this item:The clipping was two weeks old.                                    Ramage's mouth dropped open and she was halfway to the door before she remembered she was in her nightgown and cap.</font></p>
</body>
</html>

home help back first fref pref prev next nref lref last post