Mon, Apr. 3rd, 2006, 02:20 am
Name ten of life's simple pleasures that you like most, then pick ten people to do the same. Try to be original and creative and not to use things that someone else has already used.
1) Green tea with honey on a quiet morning.
2) The visions of woods or landscapes impossibly beautiful and old inspired by some tunes.
3) Unpredictability (forgetfulness?).
4) A cat cuddling up on the chest, purring, kneading.
5) Love (okay, so it's not that simple, but...).
6) A cool summer evening downtown, accordian music wafting between the trees of the park.
7) When everything just works out.
8) The perfect party with the perfect people when you discover your favourite new band and dance on top of the appliances out of joy.
9) Seeing where you get taken to by rambly musings.
10) The relief from completing 10 consarned meddlesome questions.
peoples I'm tagging:
I don't believe in people. actually. I think they're merely an opiate to befuddle the masses promulagated by the ruling elite borgeouis classes and dissimulate the reality in my head. So if you're on my friend's list and haven't already done this, you are Nichole. How've you been? Sorry about not coming to see your new place yet. Would you be a dear and fill this out? kthanks
Fine, I can steal quizzes from Sarah, too. So I'm horrible at beginner stuff. I can't evenlly spell wourth a darnne, anyhoo. Mayhaps that puts a bit o' hurt ein the olde skorre, ye thinks?
Uh. Hmm. Got to pee, 'n back to fisix class.
| English Genius |
You scored 85% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 100% Advanced, and 86% Expert!
| You did so extremely well, even I |
can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon
intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You
have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly!
Way to go!
Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!
For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/.
| My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: |
|You scored higher than 11% on Beginner|
|You scored higher than 48% on Intermediate|
|You scored higher than 76% on Advanced|
|You scored higher than 74% on Expert|
My Weapon is my SCIENCE.
The Asephlix Root given by proximation reDedendrification method on a sample of $ shows that we can be reasonably certain of the correctness of it's properties (both derived & imagined), therefore by cogitum liberatum, alaxaxas mluo toca toca cata miensweirvation, ergo, I am not the least mother of all hot fish.
Or to put that in the vernacular form: We Invite You To Inhale The Blood Of Our Ever-So Recently Deceased Cat, So That He May Come Back Reincarnated As Thou In The Next Life, And Thou, Him.via TinyLJ@j2me
You just know how I wanted to inscribe all manner of symbols, string out a new system of logic, free of the constructions and assumptions of the past few thousand years... But this is html, isn't it? What a shame... I bet it would've been something to see. Ah well, I'll just picture it in my head when I dream...
At school, I'm discovering I'm finally improving at the Spanish, and improving at that Daytona Usa race car game I'm always playing. I look over and see on the Tekken 3 game, a girl cracking some guy's leg. "Hey, why the hell did she just do that?", I think to myself alarmed. Ah well, these are dangerous times, I suppose, random leg crackings are supposed to be expected. Still, I'm hoping none of the girls at my school would be that barbarous. Why would anyone want to crack my leg, anyways? I have nice enough legs, maybe, as they are. Be a shame.
I have to give a speech in Spanish class, and a speech in Speech class. No speeches (as of yet) for Art History, Piano, or Weightlifting. I did have to give a speech in weightlifting last term. I should have did the emancipation proclamation, or the oration narration, or the vivisection libation... Go speech! Long live speech! Boo typing! Fuck that nerdy shit!
Things like being so single and unloved, and falling behind in schoolwork, were beginning to get to me... I was on my way towards doing the honorable thing and doing myself in, so I tried to remind myself of all I had to be thankful for. Like that one hair I grew myself on my chest... And my excellent memory which has yet to fail me. Some of my oldest memories are of, them cool toys they got me back in the 80`s. (Yes, believe it or not, I actually lived back in those prehistoric days.) That GI-Joe guy, I think that`s what it was, based on descriptions I hear from people these days. It was a guy maybe a foot tall, flexible, anatomically correct (and how!). Came with a canvas pup tent for him, I think. And a flask, that when you poured him a drink from it, he would turn into a lizard, and scurry off along the wall. I still get the shivers sometimes when I think back about that... I don`t, maybe that wasn't a GI-Joe, or maybe I`m getting him mixed up with something else. Could anyone let me know about this?
But the most impressive feature of all was the amount of loving detail they put into making him anatomically correct. For a mere extra $25.00, my folks could`ve gotten me the next model up, that was even more anatomically correct (2 additional inches by the GI-Joe`s scale). But no... I think I should hold them fully responsible for my present despondency, on account of that. Just how do they expect me to be competitive, in this world, given such a glaring disadvantage like that? There`s got to be at least thousands of kids out there, who`s parents did care, and got them the more well-endowed GI-Joes. How can I realistically realize my dreams and ambitions to their fullest extent, knowing this, that I am already thousands behind, from the starting gate? If only... *sob*
Nevermind, I take that back, what I said about having my memories to be thankful for. The past can go screw itself. Screw itself to hell.
Tue, Feb. 24th, 2004, 05:18 am
Made myself a mug of warm milk with honey, trying to get myself to sleep.
Maybe I shouldn't hang out with an old friend anymore, and just remember her for the way she was back in the day...
Homework needs to get done, and the test today needs to get studied for. help...
The dream, on the other hand:
I woke up, with a desire to know what Tamarind & Marzipan would taste like together.
This is because, well, the dream, where I dreamt I was God. And on the Earth below, I saw Leif. I brought him up to me, to ask what it was like to have dreamt you were God, just to see what kind of imaginary story of fancy he might concoct. Posed this question, he paused for a moment, and then dozed off. So apparently I`m narcoleptic in my dreams. After some time, I heard a great cry in the distance, which seemed to startle him awake, and Archangel Michael comes running up with a severed head that looked to be Mine, claiming it had just fallen from above a short distance from my cloudy throne. Obviously, I was pretty flipped out by this, but Leif seemed rather preturbed at the sight of the head, too. "What... how can that be? That`s the head from my dream just now. It seemed like God was trying to dictate my destiny, or some such garbage, so I had to decapitate the sukka with my trusty 6-pointed Glass Sword of Nantuket. I don`t know why this happened. No offense to you or anything, your Holyness, but... it was just a dream, it`s not sinful to dream about doing stuff, right?", he blurted out. I told him not to worry, I`m not one to hold unconcious thoughts against someone, and I seemed to still be just fine.
My faith in monotheism, however, wasn`t as fine. If I was the One True God, where could this other head have come from? Why did it look exactly like Me? Because of his miracle of producing a severed head of Me from a dream, I dubbed Leif a saint and decided not to let the matter trouble me further.
But anyway, I`m getting to the part about the food. Gabriel comes along seeming all flustered or antsy, which I initially dismissed as another one of his sabbatical tweak binges. Because like, normally this guy gives off this whole stiff-lipped "holier-than-thou" bullshit, with his flowing hair and robes and the gayass-looking wings like some kinda Holy Hippy or something, it`s rare to see him with his feathers ruffled. But it turns out it wasn`t meth this time.
He starts babbling some whacko nonsense to me about causality and phenomenology and the fate of the universe or some such garbage. I ask him to please translate what the fuck he`s talking about, and after a moment to collect himself, he gives me this spiel: "Oh most Godly of Gods on high upon high, who art both supremely merciful & wise, almost approaching me in wisdom, one of those Holy Commandment things has been handed down unto Thou. Because of the omens produced by the newly cannonized St. Leif, it has been said, that, in order to prevent creation itself from being undone, A special recipe of utmost deliciousness must be prepared. First, Thou must procure one Pig of Marzipan. Then, slitting the Pig down the ventral side thusly, a certain quantity of Tamarind paste must sloshed about on it. Having completed this most holy of holy tasks, Thou shouldst undertake to procure an additional assortment of seasonings not to be limited to the following: Horehound, Anise, Cardamom, and Nutmeg. Sprinkle these liberaly into a slurry of Cream of Cream, egg yolk, and brown sugar, and then boil the Pig up in such a concoction. When Thy Pig of Marzipan has softened up somewhat, splash a shot of brandy upon it, then take one of those glazing torches to it, producing a nice carmelized finish and igniting the rum. I mean brandy. This is to be served to me nightly for a fortnight, and also you are to address me as `Master` or `Your Holy Funkyness` during that period. Only this course of events will invalidate the dream of St. Leif and preserve you as the head of all creation. This I command."
So anyway... I wake up with a yearning for that zesty taste in my mouth, and also now I do not know if I am merely a man who dreamed he was God, or if I am God dreaming I am a man right now. Perhaps time will lend some evidence.
My computer just reset, thus erasing my entire progress in recording this, and perhaps disproving my divinity? Tell me, do dream computers reset? Wait, how can I trust you to give me honest respones, when you might be merely dreams? I`ve had sex with dream-people? Isn`t that all masturbatory or something? Maybe if this was really a dream, the computer wouldn`t still be here for me to re-type all this by the time it had booted back up. The essence of a computer is to compute, and having lost it`s essence, or, having lost my attention during the dream, being of no use to me in a rebooting state, it faded out of existence. But I`m still typing on it. Quit fucking with me!!
P.S. It`s still cold, I am old, and it`s been too long since I`ve been to a show.