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- Rand0
considering abandoning the rand persona for something closer to my real self, but having a bit of trouble remembering what that is
- xenicon0
Paul Julius Reuters used 45 pigeons to take mail in and out of Parus during Prussian siege of 1870 who deployed specially-trained falcons to intercept them. After a hundred days, long after Castor and Pollux the elephants were butchered, " a fine meat" said Victor Hugo who also consumed ostrich, water buffalo, zebra from the same zoo, and long after all the horses were killed, and cats, and rats- no-one killed any pigeons which remained plentiful.
- grunttt0
begining to suspect that i may have that flesh eating disease. i wouldn't mind it so much. it would make for interesting conversation. but damn it, it's on my middle finger on my right hand and i need that finger to express myself on occasion.
- mr_snuggles0
there's a little bit of blood coming out of my right eye...I have to admit that it's a tad bit troubling...
- designerror0
I'm so hung over from last night. Ended up at some big party after the Champions League game and got drunk like it was a saturday.
I have no idea how I got up today and arrived at work on time, in fact I don't even remember driving to work :/
- 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...
- peteski0
I was King, once.
It was in the 2nd grade.
But, I was King.
- magicpatch0
when i was 15, i rolled up some grass from jimi hendrix's grave and smoked it.
- xenicon0
“‘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.”
- rasko40
bravo!
- 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
why thank your Randship!
- Rand0
that's quite good, dr raskenstein
- magicpatch0
* uppercuts thread
- 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!
- xenicon0
jenny?
- Rand0
tell me about jimmy
- brooke0
Everyone has to go through this at some point or another. I am moving forward.
- xenicon0
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.
- 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."