Issue of November 14, 2005
7 articles in this issue.
"Nothing lasts forever," or "They don't make upper story windows like they used to."
Just because you walk away from the wreck doesn't mean you've survived.
Hell hath no fury like a cat with cold, wet feet. If only they were migratory creatures. Then we wouldn't have to make statements like, "Cat: it's what's for dinner".
The "Angel Trumpet" flower emits a strong fragrance -- but only between dusk and dawn.
With a killer at large, Lynn is put in the local inn for safety. But while Cinda and Tina, the Dirty-girl-turned-Donna-Reed owner, bicker over the yummy FBI agent, Lynn has more serious concerns: where did she get those strange bruises on her neck?
Where is the playful lover who kissed from her hand all the way up her shoulder and neck to find his way to her lips? He's not in Augusta's bed, or her arms, or her kitchen, and she no longer knows where to look for him.