tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37971886106458927602024-02-08T02:09:15.224-08:00(a)Musings.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-76142657165980752992009-09-18T08:55:00.000-07:002009-09-18T09:11:06.573-07:00Great Moment in Chat History<span>I can't believe I was having these two conversations in tandem...<br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />mark</span>: LOL<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">mark</span>: LOL @ internet<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">me</span>: lol@aol.com<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">me</span>: "Adam: hahahaha<br /> me: haha<br /> Adam: ha<br /> me: hahaha"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">mark</span>: haSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-2640459774054790792009-06-22T10:07:00.001-07:002009-06-22T10:12:20.595-07:00This index entry really just sums it all up.<span style="font-weight: bold;">Death</span>, 40, 168, 354, 385; <span style="font-style: italic;">in Baudelaire</span>, 217, 219, 224-30, 233, 236, 238-40, 243-44; <span style="font-style: italic;">in definitions of boredom</span>, 51, 54, 57, 91, 113, 116; <span style="font-style: italic;">of God</span>, 21, 41, 165, 232; <span style="font-style: italic;">Heidegger on</span>, 291, 293, 295; <span style="font-style: italic;">longing for</span>, 156, 167, 214, 224-28; <span style="font-style: italic;">meaningless</span>, 43-46, 100, 228.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-25994398425756157162009-01-19T10:05:00.000-08:002009-06-22T13:14:32.938-07:00STI Rhyming Couplets, Day Two.<span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(11:32:40 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">If there is a lady that you'd like to court, bring her flowers or chocolates -- not genital warts.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:34:22 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">The end result of my numerous trysts: an uncontrollable case of syphilis.<br /></span><br /><span class="fullpost"><br /><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(11:35:31 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Say what you will about AIDS, bitch please! The worst STDs are pregnancies.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:37:06 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">You're less of a man for being sterile, but that's better than being stuck with a child.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(11:38:59 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I'd prefer to sip upon whisky or gin, but eat some pineapple and I might try your semen.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:39:41 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Even though now I've hepatitis, it was worth it to bite on your nice ripe tits.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:42:14 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">When I traveled to Thailand I was awed by the beauty. It makes up for the fact that it burns when I pee.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(11:42:31 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I know you were excited about Obama's election, but you didn't have to give me that yeast infection.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:43:55 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">You treated me like the Lone Ranger did Tonto, but now I'm depressed. I think I've got mono.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(11:45:40 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm beginning to wish you just came on my tits, now that I have strange new growths on my bits...<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:47:42 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">After hundreds, maybe thousands of woodies, the unforgettable part is my itching goodies.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:48:21 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm also trying to concoct some new one involving bullfighters in Barcelona and papilloma.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(11:48:48 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I wish I had somewhere to put this boner, but with this inflammation, I'm kind of a loner.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:50:09 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">How about:<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:50:31 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I always thought you were hotter than Sriracha, that's how I got this deformed cha-cha.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:57:26 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">At first sight I thought you were just old and crusty. Now all of my unmentionables are pussy.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(11:58:07 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">(Rhyming with Stussy, not wussy.)</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(11:59:15 AM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">You said everything should be shared by us. I didn't know that included leaking pus.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(12:01:06 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">The sex was so good I was climbing the walls -- who knew it was so great to have three balls?<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(12:01:50 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">You get around more than Madame Bovary, maybe it's because you've got three nipples.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(12:01:51 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">No.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(12:01:53 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Wait.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(12:01:56 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">That one probably needs an edit.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(12:02:57 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm sure a pee one would work better with Lady Chatterly.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(12:03:04 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Emma Bovary's got nothing on you -- it burns when you walk, when you pee, when you screw.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(12:04:14 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I know it gets lonely when you're out at sea, but be warned: Ahab has HIV.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(12:05:28 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" >Alexander Buckiewicz-Smith: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">It's so lonely and tempting surrounded by seamen, but with the size of the whale you'll end up screamin'.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);">(12:07:29 PM) </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >Sarah Gibson: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">You're wise to avoid touching a sailor's dick, but a harpoon hurts much more than a broom stick.<br /><br />Youch!<br /></span></span><br /><a href="http://gibsonzzz.blogspot.com/2009/01/sti-rhyming-couplets-day-two.html">Further Infections</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-80164847277703082652008-12-22T12:55:00.000-08:002008-12-22T13:19:05.436-08:00Thisness for Christmas<span class="p" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Did you mean: </span><b><i>thinness</i></b><br /><br />/this-nǝss/ <span style="font-style: italic;">n </span><span>(from Latin "haecceity")</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">1</span>: the quality of being one particular thing and not another. <span style="font-weight: bold;">2: </span>the affective pull of an object (or - think about it! - a subject). <span style="font-weight: bold;">3: </span>the buoyancy of identity; the notion of self rising above all other notions. <span style="font-weight: bold;">4: </span>the heart of any self-administered reassurance, for those suddenly finding themselves in (or near) a Void. <span style="font-weight: bold;">5: </span>certainly not whatness, or thatness, or thingness, or selfness, or being-in-the-world-ness, or immanence, transcendence, or any other such thing. <span style="font-weight: bold;">6: </span>possibly handsomeness.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I find my thisness is most perfectly articulated through my cheekbones.<br /><br />I was certain what I clung to was thisness; unfortunately for me, it turned out to be thatness, and I've been projecting outwards ever since.<br /><br />To find the thisness in your whereness, one must only eliminate the thatness from your thereness.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span>Merry Christmas, Adam Benzan. Your thisness should be arriving by internet shortly. Look for it in your Emacs window, in your nearly-finished New York Times Sunday crossword, in your polished witticisms, in your pants, or in the crack between your bed and the wall. If thisness doesn't pop up in any of these highly fecund places, hold your own gaze in the mirror for 10-15 seconds, then wink at yourself - the shiver you'll send up your own spine will be you-know-what.<br /><br />Yours ever,<br />Sarah Gibson<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span><br /></span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-89959399034691152162008-10-16T12:18:00.000-07:002008-10-16T12:19:55.244-07:00A Villanelle for Graeme Worthy, On the Occasion of the Thirtieth Anniversary of His Birth.<span style="font-size:85%;">A man more worthy there has never been<br />Than Graeme, magnificent and noble friend!<br />A gentleman without; a sage within.<br /><br />At what superlative shall I begin?<br />Such majesty is hard to comprehend -<br />A man more worthy there has never been.<br /><br />He cycles free and tall on bike tires thin<br />What earthly boundary does he not transcend?<br />A gentleman without; a sage within.<br /><br />Our modern pitfalls earn his deep chagrin -<br />He scoffs as we fall for each TV trend.<br />A man more worthy there has never been.<br /><br />Hemingway's whiskers live upon his chin:<br />A kingly countenance to apprehend.<br />A gentleman without; a sage within.<br /><br />He plays my heartstrings like a violin,<br />Such affection to him do I extend.<br />A man more worthy there has never been.<br />A gentleman without; a sage within.</span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-63937564749213603112008-09-27T11:48:00.001-07:002009-06-22T13:24:28.771-07:00Hallelujah, Immanuel.<span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:21:25 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> i kant believe it's not butter<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:21:52 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> i kant hardly wait<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:22:02 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> no kantsequences<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:22:56 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> a kanticle for liebowitz<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:23:36 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> you dirty kant.<br /><br /></span><span class="fullpost"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:24:20 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> staring vakantly at the wall<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:25:34 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> chanting inkantations<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:26:27 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> against lykantthropes<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:27:04 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> a supplikant sinner seeking forgiveness<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:27:39 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> for his misadentures with intoxikants<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:27:47 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> kanter-intuitive<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:28:13 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> skantily-clad<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:29:23 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> kant dracula?<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:30:08 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> a signifikant figure in modern myth<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:32:00 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> dekanter of wine<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:32:35 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> no, that one sucked -- how about, a magical world of enkantment<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:33:49 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> i'm kantankerous enough to insist that you have to keep the first one and kan't just subsitute willy nilly<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:34:30 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> you kant be serious.<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:35:29 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> I have a penkant for keeping to the rules no matter how pekantic<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:36:50 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> those were both a bit of a stretch....but i'll let it slide -- i've lost kant of how many good ones you've come up with<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:38:08 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> this reminds me of the game of word-tennis in tom stoppard's rosenkant and guildenstern.<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:38:25 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> it's hard to keep coming up with them sober, i need some sort of lubrikant<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:39:09 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> have you kantemplated the possibility of a mid-morning beer?<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:40:49 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> there's an applikant for the position of 'graeme's morning beer'<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:40:52 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> in the fridge<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:41:15 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> sitting next to the kantelope<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:42:00 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> oooh, i kant believe you, i've been trying to work that melon into something this entire conversation!<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:43:06 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> well, my rival and co-communikant, it seems i beat you to the punch.<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:46:48 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> i kantgratulate you on your excellent pun skillz<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:46:22 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> my stomach rumbles, i feel i must stroll to the kantina, because the aforementionned kantelope is not mine.<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:47:10 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> there is a distinct possibility i will post this kantversation on my blog<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">(2:48:30 PM) </span></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" ><b>Graeme Worthy:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> edited for kantinuity of course<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(32, 74, 135);font-size:85%;" >(2:48:48 PM) <b>Sarah Gibson:</b></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> kant say for certain....</span></span><br /><a href="http://gibsonzzz.blogspot.com/2008/09/hallelujah-immanuel.html">And on and on...</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-54265871289683000292008-09-26T21:33:00.000-07:002008-09-26T21:35:59.786-07:00On Yams:<span style="font-size:85%;">Please take a moment to consider yams.<br />Could there ever exist a nobler food?<br />A pittance will buy you five kilograms,<br />Yet a richer tasting snack can scarce be chewed.<br /><br />A yam is unpretentious and honest:<br />A complex sauce would only hide its charm.<br />Just a simple salt- and butter-ing is best,<br />(Though a judicious pepper sprinkling does no harm).<br /><br />What feature of yams do I love the most?<br />I answer you without a hesitation:<br />The fortifying qualities they boast!<br />There is no healthier food in all creation.<br /><br />O yams! You delight me in every way!<br />Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?</span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-76120530435268305422008-07-27T22:13:00.000-07:002008-07-27T22:18:09.684-07:00Marcel Proust on The Internets.<span style="font-size:85%;"><img src="http://www.massivechange.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/06/INF_Internet.jpg" /><br /><br />"The truth is that life is perpetually weaving fresh threads which link one individual and one event to another, and that these threads are crossed and recrossed, doubled and redoubled, to thicken the web, so that between any slightest point of our past and all the others a rich network of memories gives an almost infinite variety of communicating paths to choose from."</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">-Time Regained</span></span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-34890128681404509112008-07-10T10:59:00.000-07:002008-07-10T11:52:28.422-07:00WB Yeats be rollin' in his grave.<h2 style="font-weight: normal;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;">www.When You Are Old and Grey.com</span></h2> <pre><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >When you are old and grey and full of sleep,<br />And checking your email, load up this pic,<br />And dream about your first shy double-click,<br />Your searching eyes, and their dark circles deep.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">How many nights you gazed upon my face,</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">And reveled in my clumsy nudity,</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Felt thrilled at digitally owning me</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">(But wished for a real woman's warm embrace).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Watching your glowing screen most tenderly,<br />Recall, a little sadly, how I fled,<br />Returned your plaintive emails all unread,<br />And left nothing but this grainy .jpg</span><br /></pre>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-17191785773719230802008-06-26T20:17:00.000-07:002008-07-10T11:53:48.756-07:00The Coder's Lament<span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" >I worked until 3:30 on the user interface.<br />The garbage I wrote after 2 will have to be replaced.<br /><br />Why did I smoke that midnight joint, and not just go to bed?<br />Now I'm stuck with labyrinthine code and pounding head.<br /><br />Through some potent magic, it is running in IE.<br />I wonder, will this motherfucker work in Firefox 3?<br /><br />Wish I could spare 10 minutes, grab a sandwich at Subway<br />I think I have some cheese left -- did I eat it yesterday?<br /><br />Some twitchy, frantic rummaging through fridge and shelves reveals<br />That an iffy jar of pickles must comprise my next two meals.<br /><br />There's nothing new on digg! I smell awful! I have to pee!<br />I haven't left my room in days! Is this the life for me?<br /><br />Why does this form keep breaking? I could swear my code is sound.<br />Oh, here it is on line 14: the vile rogue comma, found!<br /><br />I'm two hours over deadline, but they haven't emailed yet.<br />Fuck them, I haven't slept this week! I'm too far gone to fret.<br /><br />I close my eyes and press reload. Come on, don't break, you jerk.<br />O, wonder of all wonders! The thing works, it works,</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" > it works!</span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-39270671277513893232008-06-23T13:44:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:46:55.260-07:00Inspired by the Schmidt Sting Pain Index:(edit: <a href = "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schmidt_Sting_Pain_Index"> Backstory</a>.)<br /><br />I Bring you The Gibson Scale of Existential Angst:<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">1.0 <span style="font-style: italic;">Only ketchup in the fridge:</span> hungry, impoverished, mildly amusing -- you flatter yourself with thoughts of bohemianism as you rummage for crackers.<br /><br />1.8 <span style="font-style: italic;">Lying about finishing Being and Nothingnes</span>s: shameful, yet cocky -- you gathered the general meaning from the first quarter of the book, anyways, and you read "Existentialism is a Humanism" twice for your intro to Philosophy class in first year. Nevertheless, you blush scarlet when the girl you brought home lingers over the "S" section of your bookshelf.<br /><br />2.2 <span style="font-style: italic;">Your childhood best friend takes you to an awkward party</span>: nostalgic, alienating -- you oscillate wildly between wishing someone would talk to you and feeling you're much smarter than the lot of them. You get too drunk too early and wonder how deeply your feelings of superiority are rooted in profound social awkwardness. You spill your drink on a girl with a navel piercing and spend the better part of the evening vomiting surreptitiously in the back yard.<br /><br />3.0 <span style="font-style: italic;">Finishing your BA</span>: tedious, humiliating, meaningless -- any sense of accomplishment is overwhelmingly deflated; people you spent the last four years scorning get all the awards for academic excellence, your mother wears a peach sweater set to the ceremony and tells your favourite professor that she's "heard all about" them. You wonder if you will be able to complete your two-month-late final papers before the grade deadline. You'll show them all what you're made of at grad school. If you get in.<br /><br />3.6 T<span style="font-style: italic;">he unattractive Women's Studies major you were dating out of convenience leaves you</span>: confusing, ego crushing -- sexual frustration and anger wash over you in waves; you send her a regrettable drunken text message reading "Judith Butler is a cunt." You wonder if it was the disparaging remarks about Simone de Beauvoir, or because you cried after intercourse that time, or whether it has something to do with that fucking smooth talking professor with his fucking blazers with jeans and his fucking goddamn beard.<br /><br />4.0 <span style="font-style: italic;">Chlamydia</span>: uncomfortable, burning -- you are disgusted by the banality of the human body and long to free your intellect from its fleshy prison. You re-read A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and identify so strongly with Dedalus that you cry during the "Hellfire" sermon. You bus to a walk-in clinic an hour out of town to ensure you don't run into any colleagues on the way. A girl from your high school is working reception and you almost faint.<br /><br />4+ <span style="font-style: italic;">Grad school</span>: anxious, exhausting -- you are so overwhelmed by the meaninglessness of life that you decide to go get drunk alone and ponder the great questions of life. At the bar, you choke on your first whiskey and feel queasy after your second. Bored, agitated, and penniless, you slink home at 9:30, unenthusiastically masturbate, then call your mother. When she asks how your classes are going, you burst into tears.</span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-57101517193558727712008-06-10T18:43:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:49:10.397-07:00A silly wedding poem for two good ones (who have long tolerated my silliness).<span style="font-size:100%;">This went over very well with their grandparents:<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"To be a Corman, or an Epp"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />The path of life confounds us all -- <br />Those of us, even, with degrees.<br />Each turn could bring calamity,<br />Such as illness, bad shoes, or bees.<br />Two people wandering down this path,<br />Uncertain where they ought to step,<br />Could make each step with certainty<br />Were they a Corman and an Epp.<br /><br />We're not all fortunate enough<br />To be as bright as this good pair:<br />No man has quite young Michael's wit,<br />Nor woman quite Amelia's hair.<br />How can we begrudge their good luck?<br />We should rather learn from their lives<br />That brilliance, love, and good hair<br />Make for happy husbands and wives.<br /><br />I'm sad to lose them to New York,<br />These excellent and loyal friends.<br />To keep them here would be selfish --<br />They are needed for other ends!<br />For these fine people are eager<br />To help the world out as they like.<br />Each place they go will come to love<br />Our own Amelia and Mike.<br /><br />I vote that these two run for mayor,<br />Or take the world over somehow,<br />For if they were running the show,<br />We'd all breathe easier than now.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;">And all the people of the world,<br />Atheist, Jew, and Mormon,<br />Could live in blissful harmony<br />If they were Epp and Corman.</span></span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797188610645892760.post-80086066007813925982008-03-20T15:19:00.000-07:002008-07-10T12:05:17.328-07:00Heavily indebted to John Updike.<div style="text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;">"I Missed His Code, but I Read His Name"</span><br /><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br />Though coders are a dreadful clan<br />To be avoided if you can,<br />I'd like to meet the Indian,<br />Seetharaman Narayanan.<br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >I picture him a Star Trek Fan.<br />A game-wiz on a wireless LAN<br />I'd say, with admirable elan,<br />"O hai thair Narayanan,<br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >I can has SeeEss3 plz, and</span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br />Mebbe we can browze CPAN?<br />And has you seen mah bukkit, man?"<br />Then my dear friend Narayanan<br /></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br />Would seat me on a lush divan,<br /></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >And read his name, that sumptuous span<br /></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Of words equal to or greater than<br />"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan."<br /><br />We'd be great friends on Facebook, and<br />Spend hours watching Wrath of Khan,<br />Eating pizza from a deep dish pan.<br />I count myself his greatest fan.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Oh how I <3 Narayanan!!<br /></span></span></span></span></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06463818572557485792noreply@blogger.com1