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Monday, May 20, 2002 Baby, Come Forward! This gives a whole new meaning to I never had a chance. You didn't even let me explain! I mean, just because I was rolling around in bed that morning moaning oh Francesca, oh Erika, oh... what was your name again? was that any reason to lock me out of the bridal suite and not even throw my pants out into the hallway like I asked you so many times? Nicely, I thought. Please, Halley, can I at least have my pants? A towel? But no. You'd made up your mind and there was no way to convince you that it's always been you, baby, no matter how many times I went out catting on the Champs Elys�es during the engagement. There was never really anyone else. Well yeah, Monica and Genevieve, but that's all. OK, and Evette. But it was that song that kept running through my head. Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir. I couldn't help myself. Can't you understand that? Mom warned me years ago that you'd run off with some Episcopalian theologian. And see? I knew it. All our dreams about moving to Tasmania and setting up the chinchilla ranch, gone just like that. It wasn't about the croissants and you know it! You're just jealous. And it seems like we only just started. I mean, when did we first meet? Saturday, wasn't it? I told you we shouldn't fuck with the fabric of the universe like that. But you had a better idea, didn't you? You women are all the same! And before the coils had even cooled on the Chronosynclastic Infidibulum, you're down behind the stadium with some other blogger going "Have you ever seen Paris in the Spring?" Oh Halley, Halley, what went wrong? Don't come back and leave me stranded in this bleak, heartless present. Come forward. Give me just another 30 years. I can change. 7:54 PM | link | 
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