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- ********0
that ain't "chicky o rama," fella, that's Tura Santana, barked Gordon Onslow Ford.
Pousette sighed, " Im not a painter, but an ainter."
yeah, that's right, your the 'ain't in paint."
said Joan Mitchell
Shit up, Bitchell, its too soon for you to be whining.Another day at the love ranch was ending. And at night, they danced.
- brooke0
You should see how bloated I am.
- grunttt0
brooke - you have talent for miles and miles and you're beautiful too boot. move forward.
- ********0
98% water, what are a few ounces this way or that?
shake it off
- liquid0
Thinking about the randomize me thread and if we could ever compile a list of those links...
- peteski0
It was only eight-thirty when Kees van Dongen arrived, but Sally flipped the sign on the front window from Open to Closed and locked the door behind him. "Doesn't matter," she said. "All they can do is fire me."
- ********0
The phone rang.
Sally answered.
Its Weldon, Kees. Says there's about $156 still in his bank account.
Yeah what else?
He's gonna smash your face, Sally smiled and hung up.
- brooke0
Everyone has to go through this at some point or another. I am moving forward.
- ********0
tell me about jimmy
- ********0
jenny?
- rasko40
The spring has arrived and the birds are singing in the trees, the castle has become warmer and some of the staff have returned. Spring, season of regeneration. I have continued my work in the laboratory with a new vigour, I feel refreshed and spurred on as if, as if by some force greater than I, sometimes late at night I find myself in such a flurry of creation that I stop motionless for a moment or two, suddenly aware of something within myself, some force within, the God force. Whatever it be, I have sold myself to it and use it for my work, my important work. The villagers do not understand the nature or importance of my work and they shun me, the cast slander and insults but I have resolve, I am the underdog, I am as if Christ upon the cross, I shall be avenged in the pages of history whereas they shall perish as if they never had been - peasants!
- ********0
* uppercuts thread
- ********0
that's quite good, dr raskenstein
- rasko40
why thank your Randship!
- kingjulien0
Last night I almost broke my self-imposed seven month sobriety. I had been working for 10 hours straight - and then, after catching the 4th quarter and the ensuing two overtimes of the Suns/Clippers game - an exciting back and forth that reinforced why the playoffs are so great - I poured a tumbler of Springbank single malt and stared at the glass on my coffee table. Voices of the past and present were talking to me - go on dude, it's just one drink, everything in moderation, fuck it Rob what do you have to lose?, aren't you going to drink with me at the Radiohead concert anyway? the pills and the weed and the girls are your downfall anyway, come on, this reflective and somber you aint no fun, your work isn't any better sober what are you trying to prove with this discipline? - and then I considered the insomnia and the meds that have stopped the migraines but now have me dreaming things I never wanted to see, and I thought about my asshole brother and how I haven't spoken to him in years, and how he's probably in Acapulco again with his mistress, and my father, who when he had his heart attack several years back I didn't even care enough to inquire if he was alright, and I considered my current state- two weeks away from the move to SF, and my future roommate, who's now in rehab herself, and how if I screw up again it might be it, a life of fucking what ifs, and finally, as the images that have haunted my brain for fifteen years ended, I poured the drink down the sink, licking the rim of the glass to remind myself what could have been, in fact what it means to be alive, and retired to the empty bedroom, where I could still smell HER hair on my pillow, and curled up in the fetal position, with the director's commentary of Rushmore playing on loop, over and over, until the tremens passed once again, and at last my eyelids became heavy, and just as the sprinklers came on, and the lound smack of the paperboy's arrival, I was out, and another day had passed, one step closer to the divine.
- rasko40
bravo!
- ********0
“‘Is that a human body?’ exclaimed Byron, ‘why it’s more like the carcass of a sheep, or any other animal, than a man: this is a satire on our pride and folly.’”
“Byron looking on, muttered, ‘The entrails of a worm hold together longer than the potter’s clay, of which man is made. Hold! let me see the jaw. . . . I can recognize any one by the teeth, with whom I have talked. I always watch the lips and mouth; they tell me what tongue and eyes try to conceal!’”
“Byron asked me to preserve the skull for him; but remembering that he had formerly used one as a drinking cup, I was determined Shelley’s be not so profaned. . . . After the fire was well-kindled . . . more wine was poured over Shelley’s dead body than he had consumed during life. This, with the oil and salt, made the yellow flames glister and quiver. The heat from the sun and fire was so intense that the atmosphere was tremulous and wavy. The corpse fell open and the heart was laid bare...and as the back of the head rested on the red-hot bottom bars of the furnace, the brains literally seethed, bubbled and boiled as in a cauldron, for a very long time.
The fire was so fierce as to produce a white heat on the iron, and to reduce its contents to grey ashes. The only portions that were not consumed were some fragments of bones, the jaw and the skull, but what surprised us all was that the heart remained entire. In snatching this relic from the fiery furnace my hand was severely burnt; and had anyone seen me do the act I should have been put in quarantine.”
- ********0
when i was 15, i rolled up some grass from jimi hendrix's grave and smoked it.
- peteski0
I was King, once.
It was in the 2nd grade.
But, I was King.
- neue75_bold0
I'm not worried about people who talk on their mobile while driving, but it's the ones sending text messages while driving that make me weary...