spatch in his
cataloguing of ephemera from the Somerville Theatre has discovered
evidence of
Three Live Ghosts in the theatrical wild of 1922; I am delighted. I had never heard of this play
before June and now my husband is under instructions to steal the program if he finds it.
Time has been weird for ages and I understand the shifting nature of lunisolar calendars, but I still don't understand how it's already Erev Yom Kippur.
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DUN MAKE ME GO BACK THERE TOMORROW
THEY'LL EAT ME
AND I'M SO PLUMP
no subject
AND I'M SO PLUMP
YOU ARE AN APEX PREDATOR AND SHOULD STAY PUT.
*hugs*
no subject
*hugs*