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| gina mastrogiacomo, tour dates, gratis, seth green, news, ted demme, ron gabriel, and the space between black and white., brendan fraser, hbo home video, translation, locali, songs, edward saxon, artisan entertainment, wordssong lyrics ja rule i'll f___ u girl (skit) unknown, r. lee ermey, what, | Goodbloode's golfing pants--I mean chartreuse, white, and navy relationship blue--during the first of our many unconsummated engagements, but from the wrong side of the blanket as well. I remember how Mrs. Goodbloode blanched under her Dior foundation, how she went into this little swoon, seeing the presidency of the Rhode Island Garden Club, relationship so near but relationship so far, slip from her fingers yet again. Mr. Goodbloode knew my father. All rich people know each other. "A bit of a sticky wicket," he said, embarrassed by my father's lack of class. Daddy's so rich now, they've almost forgotten he isn't a gentleman. "Does he never get in touch?" "Only when he sees her on television," Clemmy answered. Clemmy loves my mother, Livia, and hates my father, Rodgers O'Shea, ne Roger, who breezed into Pascagoula, Mississippi, on business, seduced and abandoned my innocent mother, and paid nary a penny in child support. |
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| And that's what Walter Light means to me. Amen. It is worth noting that Clemmy's mother was never even tempted to call me news Porter. She knew right away I wasn't a relative; she knew all the relatives news and used to introduce me, in Newport, as Annie O'Shea, hoping someone would hire me to lick out their toilets. I've told you about my looks. The clothes I wear tend to set them off and my personality news kind of goes with the territory, so maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised by the way Mrs. Goodbloode treated me. So hurt. I mean, it wasn't just that golden shovel I whored off Clemmy at Harry Winston's, the one he made me wear on a neck chain the first time I met his family--just a joke, he said--that made Mrs. Goodbloode peg me for a gold digger. Or the shameful secret of my ignoble birth. For I wasn't just from the wrong side of the tracks, as Clemmy and I dutifully, stupidly, informed his parents whilst sitting hand in hand on this hideous couch that echoed the color scheme of Mr. |
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