Erica Olsen Firment is an omnivorous mammal of the genus Ailurus, having an endothermic physiology and a long, furry tail.
Erica's range extends to both deciduous and coniferous forests, and can often be found at Linden Lab, working on the user interface for Second Life.
Heya, I just wanted to say that I’m not sure who posted that last comment in my name, but it wasn’t me. Feel free to delete that one, as well as this one if you like because it really adds no value to this post.
I do really enjoy reading your blog though, I’m just really concerned about random comments being posted in my name.
Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still:*
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman colour’d ill.
To win me soon to hell*, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend
Suspect I may, but not directly tell;
But being both from me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another’s hell:
Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.*
Well, you do look damn sexy!
pure awesomeness!
It is a drool-worthy picture.
oh yes, I saw that.
`Ha! So you knew about this ahead of time. Was so squee worthy seeing it pop up in my ALA Direct.
Of course, those of us who know you already knew this.
Heya, I just wanted to say that I’m not sure who posted that last comment in my name, but it wasn’t me. Feel free to delete that one, as well as this one if you like because it really adds no value to this post.
I do really enjoy reading your blog though, I’m just really concerned about random comments being posted in my name.
Sorry for the intrusion.
Shakepeare
SONNET 144
Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still:*
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman colour’d ill.
To win me soon to hell*, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend
Suspect I may, but not directly tell;
But being both from me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another’s hell:
Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.*