Everywhere you hang your hat is home. Home is the bright cave under the hat.
The real 1960s began on the afternoon of November 22 1963. It came to seem...
If a man lets all of my dogs sleep in the bed with us then that is the most romantic thing. You must love my dogs in order to love me. A man who is nice to my animals and doesn't shoo them away - well that's the height of romance.
