Parts of a Bell

Bronze Tongue, Tuned Lip, Decorative Belts on the Skirt

Monday, May 19, 2008

Does it really take fewer muscles to smile than to frown?

Nope.
Posted by Laura at 1:34 PM

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Blog Archive

  • ▼  2008 (94)
    • ►  October (1)
      • Bad fortune
    • ►  September (5)
      • Fairy tale
      • Remy's favorite flavor
      • 6 degrees of humdrum
      • My mother's basket is full of straw
      • kaleidowhirl
    • ►  August (4)
      • The mountain we climbed
      • They are the people of wings.*
      • "A gift, a love gift"
      • "There's just no accounting for happiness,
    • ►  July (6)
      • Sunrise City by Samantha Meeker
      • Irked
      • Some salt with that
      • I am remembering my father.
      • I am thinking about my mother.
      • This Time
    • ►  June (4)
      • I, too, shall arrange my books by color
      • Uljhan
      • Crisis averted
      • Better isn't always, um, better
    • ▼  May (12)
      • "There is a crying for wine in the streets;
      • I had so much fun this weekend
      • "Funny,
      • Getting better
      • Shikayat
      • Does it really take fewer muscles to smile than to...
      • Armchair traveling
      • Birthday by Chagall
      • "She will have big boomerang eyes
      • It is too late not to have my name
      • Plans for the weekend
      • "The journey with you into pain is what I long for...
    • ►  April (11)
      • "provided that he sticks out his tongue
      • "Souls burning in hell,
      • Misadventure
      • What happens when we read
      • Still holding
      • A Walking Fleetwood Mac Song
      • "You get kewpie doll notions
      • Another thing I was wrong about
      • Sigh
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      • e.g. Fabio
    • ►  March (11)
      • Is there anything better
      • Non ignara mali
      • Incabinate
      • Once were orphans
      • "suddenly the sea
      • Chop Suey
      • A Better Place
    • ►  February (20)
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About Me

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Laura
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Much Ado About Nothing

Don Pedro

Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour.

Beatrice

No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.

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