Friend. Non-Friend.

This is my friend Shelly.

She's a photographer. She's also an author and has studied dance. The tango, I believe. She went on a trip last year to Paris (that's in France. I know: it's also in Texas and it's also in Ontario but she went to the French one. And oddly enough, Shelly's the type of gal who's probably been to the Texas one and the Ontario one as well. She's deep, complex; she has layers) and took some really beautiful pictures.

It's kind of hard to tell from this photograph but she's wearing a really nice, sort-of maroon-coloured, suede jacket. Almost the same colour as her hair.

It's spikey.

The hair, not the jacket.


This is not my friend Shelly.

I get the impression that her name is something along the lines of 'Dawn' but that just might be me. For all I know, her name could be something along the lines of 'Little Baby Betty Wetty Wet Wet' except she wouldn't be 'little' on account of the fact that, for a doll, she is really huge. My friend Shelly (see above) also took a picture of this.

Being a Sunday, the store was closed so I have no idea how much LBBWWW was selling for.

A perverse thought if you think about it.

If you look closely, you'll notice that LBBWWW ain't wearing no underwear.

A perverse thought if you think about it.

Take one, last, close look at the photograph. If you had been walking down the street past us, past the window, you would have heard the two of us spontaneosly burst into song.

'We are siamese, if you please.'

You had to be there.