Mar 14, 2010

Posted by celiapleete in rippingyarns | Comments

Sledding Towards Death.

Sledding Towards Death.

We told Loretta that sledding down the Matterhorn in that rickety old thing that Marty Kelpman made in shop class was a bad f•••ing idea (especially because he only got a C- on it), but the stupid bitch wouldn’t listen. We think the overdose of Adderol had something to do with it.

The memorial service was lovely.

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Mar 14, 2010

Posted by celiapleete in in the closet, rippingyarns | Comments

In A Pinch.

In A Pinch.

During the photo shoot, Bertram suddenly let out a ringing peal of girlish laughter – as that rascal Mark naughtily found his “sweet spot.”

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Mar 5, 2010

Posted by celiapleete in rippingyarns | Comments

Dark Secrets.

Dark Secrets.


The Wilson siblings. Honors students. Scout leaders. Straight-edge Methodist kids. To look at them, you would think they were model American teenagers; wholesome, pure. Their fondness for snowshoeing was their sole eccentricity, at least on the surface. The truth was, Robbie was a coldblooded domestic animal torturer, and Kerry liked to be tied up and bitten. One day, a neglected bear trap near the family mountain cabin gave away their dark secrets, and the village was never the same.

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Mar 3, 2010

Posted by celiapleete in adverts, rippingyarns | Comments

Plunging Necklines.

Plunging Necklines.

Mister Rogers cardigan? Check. Painting of Greta Garbo and a stogie? Check. The chest of a baboon waiting to be combed by that special someone? Double check. Just go to COX MOORE to find out all about the new look for the year.

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Feb 27, 2010

Posted by celiapleete in fashion, rippingyarns | Comments

World Travellers.

World Travellers.

Candace preferred to look innocent, while Annette liked to keep a knitted record of the places where she gave her most memorable…well, let’s just say that the fine citizens of those cities never forgot the zing of Annette’s tongue.

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Feb 27, 2010

Posted by celiapleete in fashion, rippingyarns | Comments

Back In The Saddle.

Back In The Saddle.

“So, babycakes…after we’re done riding the old mare around the horse farm, what say we go back to my pad and I’ll give you a ride on my moustache?”

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