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Sue Asks the Mirror: “How old are you Susan?”

Issue Date: Monday, Oct. 17, 2005

Do you guys remember when I broke my mirror a few months ago? That resulted in totalitarian eyebrowisms? Well, I did it. I finally went hog wild and spent the 6 dollars to replace the mirror that I use every morning to put on my face, do my hair and check my overall appearance. Well, from as much as I can tell from a broke-ass piece of mirror.

Ya’ll? Come closer.

Here, sit down. Let me tell you a little secret. No no no… shhhhh hush baby, it’s going to be okay. We are all going to get through this hard time together.

When you have been kidding yourself that you look A-okee Dokee from a broke ass piece of mirror? One that has lasted since basically Nixon was in office? Hairspray spots, water spots, dust… the thing, what was left of it was filthy. I could barely see myself.

And I was putting make up on … little tiny sticks thisclosetomyeye.

Not so much with the smart, aye?

So yeah, after you see yourself and what kind of job you do in a nice clean pretty sparkly mirror, one with the three circles of death magnification on the back to go along with the one big mirror on the front? Um…

Sue Asks the Mirror: “How old are you Susan?”
Parts answer…

Face: “Twenty Seven… um… Twenty Eight? Nine?”

Hair: “Fifty Five. Nice gray streak there Alice.”

Hands: “Thirty Three. HA!”

Ass: “Fat. Fuck ya’ll, give me the Dove Bar and back away slowly and no one gets hurt.”



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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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