Four technicians. Two hours. Both arms. A hand.
I am officially a turnip.
A traumatized turnip that looks like a junkie.
That water thing? Doesn't work.
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The ancestral writing home of Tina Rowley
Cork Board
"Tina! Why must you always be gallivanting? You are such a monkey. I'm going to wrap you up in cotton wool and make you live in a shoebox."
-My mother
Some pieces from The Weekly Zephyr
Blogger: A Humble Old Patch of Land
where I can store some writing I've done over the years and where I can come say things in public without collaring everyone on my mailing list
Opalescent Ghost
Clown Class: Advice Columns & Essays
A Small, Ancient Selection from The Gallivanting Monkey
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