Rhonda had been using her Droid handheld and typing with her thumbs as she drove. The note to her now-former cheating, scumbag, lying boyfriend had been quite graphic in discussing what she would like to do to him if and when they ever met again. Unfortunately, she had inadvertently addressed the nastygram to the director of the CIA instead of the cheating boyfriend, and was suddenly surrounded by FBI agents asking some very personal and probing questions . . . . David, Sf.G.
Do Blondes Have More Fun? Without even taking a second breath Sunni said yes. Her problem was the randomness of pollination; who knew what the wind or some bee might bring in? Beauty should beget beauty, she thought; what if pollen from some geeky little nerd or some hulking but dumb football player should blow her way, what then? . . . . David, Sf.G.
Earlier in the week Julia (7th row, 23rd from left) had planned to attend the presidential debate, and knowing it would be highly polarized, wore her bright red shirt to show her party affiliation. She had been worried about finding her fellow political ideologues, but was pretty sure in the end she found the right crowd.. . . . . David, Sf.G.
Kenny had always wanted to be in uniform; he had applied with the Marines, the Air Force, the State Patrol, the County Sheriff’s office, all with the same result. “How,” they asked him, “can you handle an M16 or toss a grenade when you are no bigger than a blade of grass? You’re just too small!” Kenny was ready to forget the whole uniform thing and try for one of the covert services; maybe MI6. . . . . David, Sf.G.
Leticia, a real beauty, often got told she looked just like Rihanna. Unfortunately, her boyfriend Howard didn’t look anything like JZ and couldn’t sing nursery rhymes, much less Hip Hop. She guessed that they wouldn’t be night clubbing with the President anytime soon. . . . . David, Sf.G.
It was a case of mistaken identity, Rheinhart realized, and, he acknowledged, these things happen. From a distance, they looked like grapes–round, purple, succulent–one of his favorites. Upon landing, he realized his mistake, but hey, they weren’t half bad if you went for that purple flower sort of taste. . . . . David, Sf.G.