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November 16, 2005

Volume 8, Issue 16

Pajamas Media launched today, but under the new name of Open Source Media.

The theme for today is pajamas.

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Comments

He had fallen in love with the idea of having a girl back home, and I must admit, I’d taken to the thought of havin’ a man over-seas. We married after his tour ended, the G.I. from the dance and I, and eventually fell in love, with each other. I think we did, anyway, love just wasn’t as important then.

I went to his room, the day he finally died, in my pajamas. I was carrying a bouquet of roses and when he asked “what are those for?” I smiled softly and replied “It’s our anniversary.”

Of what? - didn’t matter.

Posted by: kasac at November 16, 2005 12:21 PM · Permalink

He had fallen in love with the idea of having a girl back home, and I must admit, I’d taken to the thought of havin’ a man over-seas. We married after his tour ended, the G.I. from the dance and I, and eventually fell in love, with each other. I think we did, anyway, love just wasn’t as important then.

I was in my pajamas, when our local sheriff came to tell me my husband had died in a bar fight this morning. He hadn’t been home much lately, but I remember wondering, - Did he know it was our anniversary?

Posted by: kasac at November 16, 2005 12:22 PM · Permalink

I just couldn't decide!

Posted by: kasac at November 16, 2005 12:23 PM · Permalink

Robert Arthur Midlothian was the quintessential mama's boy. On the day his mother died, he finally felt he was free of her smothering.

It was six months before he took her room as his own, and another six months before he started dating. Now he had that cute Sharon from Accounting ready to spend the night with him, as he tried to decide which pajamas to wear.

The sheets barely concealed her nude form as she howled in laughter, at the sight of him standing there in his Hulk pajamas, holding his spare set of Spiderman pajamas out to her.

Posted by: hnumpah at November 16, 2005 12:49 PM · Permalink

The life of a pajama – what a strange thought. Born into poverty in some third-world sweat shop. A childhood spent stuffed into a ships hold and then delivered for display in a retail outlet.

If you’re lucky, Victoria’s Secret, where you’ll be well taken care of and always smell good. If unlucky, Babyland, where you’ll be sold into a life of biological function, and dastardly odor. Your best friend is a Huggies - jumbo.

Washed daily, faded, wrinkled, - but when you’ve been outgrown you realize you’re proud to have been loved by and given comfort to some little bundle of joy.

Posted by: kasac at November 16, 2005 2:09 PM · Permalink

I’d been overworking; my duties were starting to slip.
So I reached the conclusion that I needed a trip.
Three days later I was unpacking in the Bahamas.
That’s when I discovered I’d forgotten to bring pajamas.

Normally I would just go out and purchase some more,
But we arrived very late; they’d closed the hotel store.
“Don’t you fret,” said my wife. “Don’t pull out your hair.
Why don’t you just go to bed wearing your underwear?”

They say karma catches up for the things you’ve done wrong.
Which explains why I evacuated the fire wearing only a thong.

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at November 16, 2005 7:02 PM · Permalink