Click to view Our beloved bottle blonds returned to us last
night with skydiving, poverty, and plenty of bitch fighting.
There is only one thing that can contain all the emotions we are
still feeling: poetry!  Yes, Gretchen, Tamra, Lynne, Vicki, and
Jeana are our muses and we think that this is a fitting tribute
for the start of what is sure to be a great season of
foreclosures, petty disputes, and plastic surgery.  Gretchen
Rossi Has a Dildo with a Cord  like feet searching for the
ground while hurling out of a plane. Empty like tingling in the
cheeks longing for the flapping rush of wind and the taut
explosion of a screaming descent.  like a love tank in a Prius
that has no sparks and no oil and is just cruising down a hill
to crash into the community's gate. The neighbors will swell out
of their houses—empty, all their goods pawned—  And they will
watch as her bloody manicure sweeps her hair out of her face and
she begins to climb back up the hill, past the empty homes. The
mood is foreboding and gnawing,