Don't accuse me of being morbid when I'm merely the product of a culture that buries the bones of the ones they love in pretty, manicured flower gardens so they can keep them nearby and go talk to them whenever they feel troubled or depressed. That's morbid. Not to mention bizarre. Dogs bury bones, too.

I said breathe. Not do a fish-out of-water imitation.

We're translating the Kama Sutra," Barrons said, with interactive aids.

Nobody home but She for Whom I Am the World. Can't go on like this, can't keep doing it.- Jericho Barrons

Fear and doubt are major stampeders.

I was in Cancun, Mexico, sitting in a disappearing-edge swimming pool, on a bar stool that was actually under the water, watching palm trees sway in a sultry breeze against the unmistakable aqua splendor of the Caribbean Sea; drinking coconut, lime, and tequila from a scooped-out pineapple, with salt spray of breaking surf and sun kissing my skin. Translation: I'd died and gone to heaven.

I don't know about you, but I call impromptu vomiting harm.