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« Barking Mad, or Just Dopey and Grumpy? | Main | Postmodern Literary Association »

March 17, 2005

Comments

John

Actually, she was quite charming when she wasn't slapping the rhythm of a song into your leg. I read the obituary in the Oak Ridger's web site. Who knew she'd studied at Julliard?

Nell

Yeah, like a rabid weasel is charming. If you see a bunch of flickering lights up on top of the ridge it'll be mad Alice--I expect the devil will give her some coals and tell her to go start her own hell. Fondly remembered my rear end.

Pa Bear

When leaving a band parents meeting one night, someone behind me said "Unlike good Scotch, Alice does not improve with age". I didn't need to ask "Alice, who?"

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