I lost my favorite pencil.
The only rational response to such a grievous loss is:
… outright sobbing in a carefully placed pool of light.
Phew. I believe the grief has passed.
Oh … nope … false alarm …
not done yet …
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Sometimes a pencil is just a pencil–and you are very funny.
I just realized that those top photos look like one of the photos on your old blog.
And, of course, I must don my large-collared leather jacket in order to give full vent to my horrible pencil grief.
oh, red. i’m so sorry about the pencil.
and you’re very sexy when you’re wailing. i mean that in a most straight way.
DBW – yeah, this is part of that whole same series – I found the contact sheet today – it’s hysterical. I rolled around on the floor like that for … 2 hours? An insanely long amount of time. The tears kept drying up on my face under the lights so the makeup chick used this glyceriny-waxy stuff to keep them sparkley and dribbly. It was so much fun!
sarah – hee hee Thank you!
You have lost your cookies.
Brilliant.
My favorites are the last two — where the grief seems to be at its peak. Hahahaha!
Jaysus Christ, you are gorgeous. Seriously – you’re just breathtakingly beautiful.
What Sarah and RTG said… and, for both, the phrase “Takes one to know one” applies.
That said, my wife has a dish with over 70 pens I have “lost” in the last 2 years (and I’m not exaggerating). Sure glad none of them was my favorite, don’t think I could take that much anguish
JFH, I didn’t really lose my pencil. The whole thing is a joke. Joke explained: I just wanted to choose an event so trivial that bursting into stormy sobs in response to it would be funny.
You are so insensitive! How dare you mock those of us who really have lost our pencils? Do you even care that you’re causing us more pain by your incessant ridicule?
“incessant ridicule”! hahahahahaha
If you feel such pain – I suggest you roll around on the ground, wearing a leather jacket, and wailing. It seems to help!!
Phhhhtttt!
Positively Hepburnesque, Hepburnian, Hepburnanoid…had Hepburn ever worn a large-collared leather jacket, anyway.
Hokay I’m’a shut-up now.
I had to order a replacement nib for my favorite fountain pen recently (it is not good to drop one’s pen point-first on to a tile floor…learn something new every day). New nib cost as much as the durn pen did back when I bought it. It’s just a Phileas, the cheapest Waterman, but even that is an extravagance for a schleprock such as I.
I didn’t wail, but I did call myself various reproachful names from Ham Gamgee’s large paternal word-hoard.
Only on Sheila’s blog can we get the juxtaposition of The Tragedy of the Lost Pencil, and the Manson family….
Das why we luvs our Sheila.