I've read more blogs in my day than I like to admit. Probably, on some level, I've secretly trained alot of blogs to be who they are today. And continue to, in my more corrupt moments. Being gay is a talent, not a lifestyle you know.
One blog that I didn't train, but just read the gossip about, was a typical quiverful mom with seven kids going on eight. Not that the number eight scares me like it used to...ever since I read Schopenhaeur and finally got a firm grasp on a priori, no need to fear the number eight.
Why nobody gave me a copy of anything by Schopenahauer before then, makes me distrust my country more, but in a healthy way. I'll choose my level of health though, be sure on that. Eventually I'll learn Dutch and read his other thesis on reality.
The blog though, way more fascinating than the literature Dooce denies knowing...the woman was birthing her eighth child as we read and cheered on. Sadly, as some will recall, those IN the loop and not just pretending it doesn't exist...
the quiverful representative died, in labor. Her husband, of course, was left with eight (includes the unsuspecting newborn) homeschooled children to re-enter into society's authority-on-negligence glare. Difficult for the whole blogging community to accept, let me be clear.
Can't link to the blog, completely left my memory until this morning...in fact, only became unsubmerged (about to go cuckoo for prefixes, just watch) as I dealt with the laundry issue. Now, why did I bring this up again, losing my bearings here, hold on.
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