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South Park Cat Tales: A Brief Timeline (#2)
"Next thing I know the sun moved and took time with it." Stella appears to be a fan of Emily Dickinson: #1550 The pattern of the sun Can fit but him alone For sheen must have a Disk To be a sun--— October 20, 2009 2:01 a.m.
Wereswans of London
This is one of your more refined, lovely pieces. The dialogue between analyst and analysand is contemplative, touching, and real. I was going to go as a raver chick, but now think I might go as that chaise for Halloween.— October 20, 2009 1:48 a.m.
Wereswans of London
#4 and 5 beat me to it! Drats!— October 20, 2009 1:39 a.m.
Rare Burgers? Rarely
Not if you are using basmati rice by turning it up fast, then to a simmer for 15-20 min, covered. Thanks for the molasses tip and the recipe, Naomi! If I were a cheerleader, I'd shake my POM POMs :)— October 20, 2009 1:31 a.m.
La Mesa: Where Knitting Pros and Beer Enthusiasts Are Born
Hi ninasaurusrex, here is an Emily Dickinson poem (a real riddler), in honor of your hobby: 617 Don’t put up my Thread and Needle— I’ll begin to Sew When the Birds begin to whistle— Better Stitches—so— These were bent—my sight got crooked— When my mind—is plain I’ll do seams—a Queen’s endeavor Would not blush to own— Hems—too fine for Lady’s tracing To the sightless Knot— Tucks—of dainty interspersion— Like a dotted Dot— Leave my Needle in the furrow— Where I put it down— I can make the zigzag stitches Straight—when I am strong— Till then—dreaming I am sewing Fetch the seam I missed— Closer—so I—at my sleeping— Still surmise I stitch—— October 20, 2009 1:07 a.m.
A Man Can't Just Sit Around
A little Emily Dickinson, for perspective and for your disappointment in the whole balloon fiasco: YOU ’VE seen balloons set, haven’t you? So stately they ascend It is as swans discarded you For duties diamond. Their liquid feet go softly out Upon a sea of blond; They spurn the air as’t were to mean For creatures so renowned. Their ribbons just beyond the eye, They struggle some for breath, And yet the crowd applauds below; They would not encore death. The gilded creature strains and spins, Trips frantic in a tree, Tears open her imperial veins And tumbles in the sea. The crowd retire with an oath The dust in streets goes down, And clerks in counting-rooms observe, “’T was only a balloon.”— October 20, 2009 12:16 a.m.
Chargeless fans....
Pete, what font did you use here? It looks properly psychotic--did you 'bold' it?— October 19, 2009 11:24 p.m.
99 Years of Seduction
"...a lively melon consommé with lemon-verbena sorbet was like a like a passing glimpse of Fairyland, here for a minute, then — whoosh! — vanishing to unearthly realms. Roasted apple-frangipani tart with brown-sugar ice cream included candied walnuts with a secret that only Michelle picked out — a tiny lash of cayenne in the coating." Mmm. Sounds delish, if just for these holiday-sounding desserts; but it is hard to imagine going without first hearing Kingsley McClaren intone "Come to the Grauhhnnt Grill" on old KFSD. :)— October 19, 2009 11:19 p.m.
Eat Up, Countrymen
"a fresh seasonal delicacy..." Exactly, Jerome. Sardines and anchovies add a layer of flavor to many dishes, especially Italian dishes, that is lost without them. My puttanesca would not be the same, in particular--and gringo, you have probably eaten and enjoyed both these fishies in Italian restaurants without even realizing it... :)— October 19, 2009 8:43 p.m.
He Was a Man
Oh, and frozenanon, could you verify whether or not Johnson's stories about Alcor are true? As in, it's a "cult," etc., and whether or not this "batting practice" happened with Mr. Williams' head? Is Mr. Johnson's life really in danger because he wrote a tell-all? Readers appreciate anything you can add to the story.— October 19, 2009 8:40 p.m.