It�s not known, but he�s/she�s pushing the envelope, so it�s bite the bullet and back to the drawing board, although it�s better late than never to be on the cutting edge � play it as it lies, I always say. It�s easier to verbalize one�s thoughts than to actualize them; sort of like when, I like go to my friend Cookie that I perceived that her relationship with Tom had always been rocky, not quite a roller-coaster ride but more like when the toilet-paper roll gets a little squashed so it hangs crooked and every time you pull some off you can hear the rest going bumpity-bumpity in its holder until you go nuts and push it back into shape, a degree of annoyance that I know Cookie had now almost attained. (The toilet paper didn�t have that fine, squishy, softness so common to Pixie Bottom but more like the corn cob texture of Old Homestead, though not as nuanced). She said it reminded her of laying next to Tom at night, regretting sleeping with Morris while they were broken up, knowing she had done nothing wrong but feeling vaguely unclean, like freshly washed, once-folded laundry that has been shoved off the bed onto the floor and slept on by the dog�. not Mutzy, the Schnauzer, but MojoDomo, the brown and white Sharpei...
I know what you mean...