Manitou Mud and Soft Nipples

The following is a series of emails that the Palinode has been sending me over the course of the evening.

Manitou mud! It's on me.



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It's getting uncomfortable.



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When it dries it's this weird light green colour. Almost chartreuse.

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My skin is now insanely soft.

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I'm going to put this stuff on my nipples next. Result: the softest nipples of all.

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Post mud.



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Transcribe our conversation. Post the pictures I sent you. I have no shame. Just soft, smooth nipples.

How does one not swoon for such a man?

Although, I am a little concerned about how sad he looks now that he has the softest nipples of all. Maybe this is how the Universe is balancing things out. To giveth, it must taketh away.

Soft nipples: they will steal your joy.

Mammalian Bonsai, Conspiracy, Nipple Fever, Pontiki, and Lynda Barry

Due to an overwhelming amount of mucus and sneezing, the following will have to suffice:

I am a cat lover, truly, but I find it hilarious that anyone took this seriously. Snopes is always good for hoaxbusting, but the humane society, the FBI, and many others must be humourless.

Here is some generally paranoid and possibly quite scary wierdness, if you are into the idea that a lot of things are not coincidental when they pertain to very powerful, interested groups. For more on this vein, go to New World Disorder.

I came across a site about the culture and history of Wales, and it made me think back to an ex-boyfriend of mine who was Welsh. Owain, we shall call him. It was with him that I realized I had a bizarre pattern for dating. A couple of common characteristics of the men I have dated are: 1) myopia was a must, or blindness in one eye, or a lack of proper binocular vision despite having sight in both eyes, and 2) if he had a brother, his brother had a third nipple, or even a fourth nipple, which the mention of would cause serious discomfort for the sibling. I have never once dated a well-sighted fellow, and of the men I have seriously dated, two or three of them had brothers with extraneous nipples. I have never been able to draw a line between these commonalities, but they seem to come as a package for some reason. What fascinates me is that the extraneous nipple thing spilled over into my non-dating life as well. I have a female friend who only found her two tiny extraneous nipples after swimming in a cold lake naked with a friend. She had always dismissed them as funny moles, but her friend saw the little erect mounds, new exactly what they were, and pronounced them nipples.

Pontiki!

I am a huge Lynda Barry fan, so I think everyone should read her novel, Cruddy, and listen to her cd called “The Lynda Barry Experience.”