My God, isn't it awful about Princess Diana?
Her poor poor children. I don't much feel like updating, honestly.

Here, I think this is appropriate. I got this lovely unattributed poem from the little frog girl. She read in my archives about my Da and e-mailed it to me.

Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn's rain. When you awake in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the first star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die. One year ago today: "Did you see the painting with the big penis and the sperm and the egg?" * Yesterday / Index / This Month / Tomorrow * E-Mail Logo and graphics by Lucy Huntzinger Background by Ace of Space This page was written by hand. My hand. Only pussies use HTML editors. Last Updated Tues 11 August 19:15:09 1998