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Sharon osbourne is such a blast and she's so, so bright.
-Cyndi Lauper
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Sharon Osbourne Is Such A Blast And

Cyndi Lauper
Sharon osbourne is such a blast and she's so, so bright.
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Blast Sharon

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She comes to me when she wants to be fed. and after i feed her -- guess what -- she's off to wherever she wants to be in the house, until the next time she gets hungry. she's smart enough to know she can't feed herself. she's actually a very smart cat. she gets loved. she gets adoration. she gets petted. she gets fed. and she doesn't have to do anything for it, which is why i say this cat's taught me more about women, than anything my whole life.
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Today the israeli government continues seizures of palestinian land for settlements, military incursions into surrounding countries and denial of the right of palestinians expelled by terror to return. ariel sharon, israel's prime minister, is a war criminal who should be in prison, not in office. israel's own kahan commission found that sharon shared responsibility for the sabra and shatila massacres.
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She's a yellow pair of running shoes, a holey pair of jeans. she looks great in cheap sunglasses, she looks great in anything. she's, "i want a piece of chocolate cake; take me to a movie." she's a, "i can't find a thing to wear." now and then she's moody. she's a saturn with a sunroof with her brown hair blowing. she's a warm conversation i wouldn't miss for nothing. she's a fighter when she's mad and she's a lover when she's lovin'.
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She smiled. she knew she was dying. but it did not matter any longer. she had known something which no human words could ever tell and she knew it now. she had been awaiting it and she felt it, as if it had been, as if she had lived it. life had been, if only because she had known it could be, and she felt it now as a hymn without sound, deep under the little whole that dripped red drops into the snow, deeper than that from which the red drops came. a moment or an eternity- did it matter? life, undefeated, existed and could exist. she smiled, her last smile, to so much that had been possible.
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She was made up of more, too. she was the books she read in the library. she was the flower in the brown bowl. part of her life was made from the tree growing rankly in the yard. she was the bitter quarrels she had with her brother whom she loved dearly. she was katie's secret, despairing weeping. she was the shame of her father stumbling home drunk. she was all of these things and of something more...it was what god or whatever is his equivalent puts into each soul that is given life - the one different thing such as that which makes no two fingerprints on the face of the earth alike.
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Just me, just me sweet marie, she loves just me (she also loves maurice mcghee). no she don't, she loves just me (she also loves louise dupree). no she don't, she loves just me (she also loves the willow tree). no she don't, she loves just me! (poor, poor fool, why can't you see she can love others and still love thee.)
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