Yes, this is how allison and i spend our day

-----Original Message-----From: Allison Hollingsworth [mailto:AHollingsworth@SEWELL.com] Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 11:46 AMTo: Boggs, LacySubject: RE: *snap*snap*snap*snap*snap*

Hehe, I’m glad you like Geena’s poem. I thought this one was rather deep and emotional. I’m sure it was straight from the heart.

My general manager is sitting in the office in front of me and he just screamed “I HAVE SEEN THE LIGHT… AND I LIKE IT HOT!!!!!”
Is it ok that I’m a little bit scared right now?


-----Original Message-----From: Boggs, Lacy [mailto:LBoggs@cnlonline.com] Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 11:53 AMTo: Allison HollingsworthSubject: RE: *snap*snap*snap*snap*snap*

I wish – OH HOW I WISH!! – that I had someone I could share this with who would understand how almighty effing hilarious it is. But there isn’t anyone but you and me who have dwelt in corn shard land and seen the other side... Brandon doesn’t even understand my cardinal in a bottle picture...

Honestly, I actually had to get a tissue and wipe my eyes I was laughing so hard when I read this.

I love you! You are hilarious! You are a goddess of funny. Amen.

But I don’t quite know how to follow it up... Another haiku seems a cop out after the work you put into ‘green suede pumps of joy’...

Hmmmm.....

I think I’ll have to take it to the next level and add... interpretive dance! (You’ll just have to imagine my dance moves... They’re gonna be GREAT!)


Whirr whirr
Of the computer
Spinning! SPINNING!
Little fan
And oh,
The mighty roar of the
Photocopy machine – its lamp a light
In the existential darkness
Shining back and forth...
Back and forth...
Back and forth...
Copy
Collate
Staple
Glug and hiss of the water cooler
Like a broken rubber duck
And tap RATTA TATAA TAP!
Of the fingers on the keys
If a person types
In an empty office
Does anyone hear them scream?

Thank you.
Just Jack!

-----Original Message-----From: Allison Hollingsworth [mailto:AHollingsworth@SEWELL.com] Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 10:39 AMTo: Boggs, LacySubject: *snap*snap*snap*snap*snap*

Next up for Open Mike Night, I present you with a poem from our old friend Geena.

“Hi, my name is Geena, and I’m a cross-dresser. I’ve written a poem that I’m going to recite for you today about a new pair of pumps I bought this weekend. This particular pair changed my life forever… they just… well I think that you’ll understand when you hear my poem.
*ahem!*

Blue sneaker, blue sneaker,
Brown Birkenstock,
I saw you, bright spectacle,
Among the round, the pointed, the block…

You spoke to me, in your own little way
I almost didn’t hear you
Over the TJ MAxx P.A.

But oh, how I love you,
My lime green suede pumps.
I love you so much that
My adam’s apple makes a lump

With the tears of joy I cried
To see your price
Was a mere $7.95!

I took you home as fast as I could, and I haven’t taken you off since, and I have no meter or rhyming skills when it comes to writing poetry but that is absolutely no reflection of me as a cross dresser.

Thank you.”

No, Geena, thank YOU.

-----Original Message-----From: Boggs, Lacy [mailto:LBoggs@cnlonline.com] Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 11:18 AMTo: Allison HollingsworthSubject: I call it: what they think about in hell

Amen sistah friend.

I have ABSOLUTELY nothing to say. So I will say it in a haiku:

Boredom in the cube
I feel my mind slip away
Florescent abyss

Thank you.

-----Original Message-----From: Allison Hollingsworth [mailto:AHollingsworth@SEWELL.com] Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 10:10 AMTo: Boggs, LacySubject: I call it: A Love Affair Not Meant to be Today

Friday, oh Friday, where have you been?
Even a day’s too long to wait ere I see your face again.

Our affairs are too short, the waiting betwixt way too long,
If I were more talented I would sing you a song

Of how lovely you make me feel,
How the week’s icky layers, just seem to peel

Off my soul and replaced is my joy at being one with the weekend.
Being one with the weekend.
Being one with the weekend.
The weekend.

Friday, oh Friday, where have you been?
Even a day’s too long to wait ere I see your face again.