tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766001472349787698.post3438542207742469141..comments2023-10-26T05:00:06.930+13:00Comments on Walking with Ghosts: My precious little razorbladePhoenician in a time of Romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03288267792504016349noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766001472349787698.post-81481887261181450122007-02-15T12:56:00.000+13:002007-02-15T12:56:00.000+13:00But, yes, you do have magnificent breasts.But, yes, you do have magnificent breasts.Phoenician in a time of Romanshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03288267792504016349noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766001472349787698.post-8871567496219035632007-02-15T12:53:00.000+13:002007-02-15T12:53:00.000+13:00Oh, Christ, A. - it's not about you 8-) 8-). Actu...Oh, Christ, A. - it's not about you 8-) 8-). Actually, it's not about anyone.Phoenician in a time of Romanshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03288267792504016349noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766001472349787698.post-63475753219535388562007-02-15T10:27:00.000+13:002007-02-15T10:27:00.000+13:00Happy St Valentine’s Day Perverts! *I* am ‘The Pro...Happy St Valentine’s Day Perverts! <BR/>*I* am ‘The Problem Aucklander’, she proclaimed grandly, yet with a certain self-effacing humility. How interesting – I knew T referred to other females in his life rather cryptically, but strange to find my own place in the bevy. We once had a running gag over possible acceptable monikers. I think I wanted one that was feminist yet praised my tits. I have quite nice tits - as T may or may not like to confirm. Having read T’s entry I feel quite flattered, and surprised, to have made any impact on someone’s life – positive or negative. I’m not comfortable with the thought of ever having hurt someone I like, but then it’s what people do to each other, isn’t it? I’d like a thicker skin myself, but then how would I be able to really touch or be touched? Must start my own blog to fully examine my navel properly – but then all I ever find is fluff :-)<BR/>Happy Valentine’s T, my wistful? whimsical? wicked? Wellingtonian. xox<BR/>PS/ FYI, I wasn’t bemoaning the fact that my poem didn’t win - travesty though that undoubtably was – I was bitching because *John Banks* read it out on the radio. At what price fame??Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766001472349787698.post-56580452706804960302007-02-14T20:03:00.000+13:002007-02-14T20:03:00.000+13:00(I promised myself I wouldn't use this blog to inf...(I promised myself I wouldn't use this blog to inflict more badly self-indulgent Internet poetry on the world - but I lied, I lied. The Problem Aucklander sent me an email (entitled, charmingly, "Happy Valentine's Day, pervert!") bemoaning a second place win in a local contest with a poem she'd penned, so I thought I better do one to post back tomorrow).Phoenician in a time of Romanshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03288267792504016349noreply@blogger.com