Talk to Transformer

Still sounds like Marissa tbh

I guess NKOTB gotta make a living in retirement somehow.

step one: we can have lots of fun
step two: there's so much we can do

step three: we have loads of money

step four: let's do as much as possible

step five: we'll save for our retirement

Step six: people will want to come to our town

step seven: the town will be very famous

step eight: lots of people will want to visit

step nine: our town will be very prosperous

STEP FOUR: I really want to open a restaurant

STEP FIVE: We will start selling food and drink to people coming to our town

STEP SIX: We will make a lot of money in the first year

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus and then I remembered the more innocent times.

Then I felt warm and comforted by that memory and tears trickled down my face.

"Merry Christmas Eve, my dear," the stranger said, and pulled my daughter from my arms.

Her small fingers tugged on his sleeve.

"I want to go with her," she said.

"It's time for her to be on her way home, Holly."

The man turned to me.

"Would you like to meet Santa Claus?"

I couldn't speak.

My daughter tugged on the stranger's sleeve.

"Don't worry," he said.

one just went by. "grim reapah!" burbbhrbhbbhbburbbb. and sometimes like there's this kinda reggae dub sorta beat and other times it's just regular reggae beat and in the middle is just grumbly grumbly dub sound where it's like," how ya doin ', grumbly grumbly grumbly ganma for ya for ya for ya for ya.

"" how ya doin ', grumbly grumbly grumbly ganma for ya for ya for ya for ya. "And sometimes there's dub sound for a long time and sometimes there's regular dub sound.

and there's this one place where you can sit and watch all of this.

usually all you see are old men and old women with camels and a few

Boris Johnson is a fucking cunt.

I don't have a class system system to match.

My goal is to have another one.

A good one.

A really good one.

One that will be awarded the Nobel Prize for fucking rock - hard assholes who just want to love you and fuck you.

Even better, it will be held in Brighton, just for me.

This blog will deal primarily with sex.

It will present arguments on how your brain works.

It will ask why you have the urge to bang women you barely know on the butt.

Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg. The Batmobile lost its wheels, and Alfred was decapitated.

Nothing but bad news around here folks, I have to take a moment and smile.

I have a yard full of fish.

They are all black and most of them are pregnant.

I think that I am going to stop writing and go dig out some old wellies and gloves.

I am going to dive into that pile of dead fish and scoop them all up and take them to the ocean.

I am sure that they will appreciate this as much as I did.

I'll wrap up in my big wellies and rush headlong into that ocean and let

irl lol'ed at the first line of Camaraderie's

"grumbly grumbly dub sound where it's like," how ya doin ', grumbly grumbly grumbly ganma for ya for ya for ya for ya."

love this

it's the missing bit that will finally help us find the type of hip hop burt so wanted to nail down

why is a raven like a writing desk?

my friend tells me it is because ravens are smart, and writing desks are stupid because they get in the way.

but i don't think it's the writing desk that's stupid.

i think it's the raven, the stupid stupid.

i go downstairs and sit on my parents bed and have a cigarette and think about writing about what a shitty day it's been and how i don't think it will ever be a good day again.

i look up at the window to see if the raven is there, and it is.

it's sitting on the ledge, wings outstretched,

Quoth the raven - "dude."

Why aren't you listening to Fishbone right now?

Did you see the newest Hanson video?

Where do you get those clothes?

You should totally just wear those overalls while you play video games and stuff.

You know what you're getting with that.

You're gonna want to play outside in the yard.

Laurie Craycraft.

* Yes, I would really like to punch this girl right in her face, but I really don't have a reason to do so.

I mean, this is just such a random coincidence that this is the person I'm thinking of when I try to think of how I hate bats

You should totally just wear those overalls while you play video games and stuff.

And, I'm gonna show you all, I'll even do it for you, now that I know how good at cooking you are."

"First you have to cover the surface area," Lou explained.

"So, I'll take my... my, um... socks off and use them to lay down paper on the floor.

Then, I'll use this glue stick to stick the gloves on the paper so that it looks like they're holding hands.

Once that's dry, I'll do the same with Jigglypuff's; just use her to glue on the... you know.

And then I'll let you all have a go with her

britney can i get your sister email why because she look intersting

i want to stalk ellen because i am in love with her and what she did to jennifer aniston

i have a 13 year old sister, but im still old enough to put makeup on her and she likes to practice her beauty on me!

i am the oldest.

my other sibs are 14, 11, 7, 6 and 3.

i spend every weekend babysitting.

since the oldest one is taking the years of my tween and into my teen (as soon as i turn 13), i am the most proud.

i spent the time when she couldn't, so she could, and now i do everything with her

Hey hip-hop nerds. What kind-of hip-hop is this?
The only place I've heard this kind-of hip hop is blasting from these cars that drive down streets really slowly at night in Brooklyn just blasting this weird kind-of hip-hop. It's dark and slow-mid-tempo and kinda spooky, and talking about death and darkness and other night kinda shit. What is this?

What I'm about to tell you might sound dumb to some of you, so let me sum up what I'm about to say: Ghostface Killah is talking about something called metalcore.

Hold up, what?

Metalcore! That's what he's talking about, and it's crazy to me because Ghostface Killah is also one of my favorite rappers, so it's not like he's just making up this nonsense for the hell of it.

It's from a song called "Chocolate Rain." In the middle of the song, he sings, "I had to go back to my birthplace and see

Why are sweaters considered wussy? There seems to be this general opinion, at least in the US, that wearing sweaters is something kind-of wussy and fey.

I would never call this impression unfair. They're awfully warm and thick and practical.

But it's just about the most absurdly short-sighted view of human behavior I can imagine.

Because that's just about all sweaters are.

Every sweater, no matter how it's worn, is a celebration of physics, biology, and thermodynamics.

Of clothes as costumes, and our lifelong dedication to turning ourselves inside-out in order to stay that way.

Of cold as a lifestyle choice, and clothing as the means to

Every sweater, no matter how it's worn, is a celebration of physics, biology, and thermodynamics.

haha awesome

Every sweater, no matter how it's worn, is a celebration of physics, biology, and thermodynamics. But there's also something organic and almost hippie-ish about it, too: turtlenecks serve as a reminder to men that they're in fact a part of nature, and not just observers in it.

Turtlenecks are the sonnet of male turtlenecks: They're utilitarian, but they don't apologize for being so. They're unapologetically able to embody multiple identities, and tell the story of their owner. They go with absolutely everything in the wardrobe, but they're equally at home in outerwear and in indian cotton.

https://i.etsystatic.com/16432782/r/il/36e26b/1744180752/il_fullxfull.1744180752_2rg4.jpg

yo i put a flexfit kangol through the dishwasher with one of those platic hat cages and the shit never was the same

dont be a cheap ass, just buy a new fucking hat and have more than one favorite hat, you got to switch your style up, that way you always looking fresh

fuck washing a hat, just stick it in there with your dicks so you don’t have to wash it

the sooner you learn to live on your own, the sooner you can get that fucker in the dishwasher

make sure the fucking dishwasher is super hot. you want that shit to dry out as fast as possible so your hat stays looking shiny

by using your dick you can hold your beer and put your flexfit kangol in there too

every now and then pop in your flexfit kangol and run through the dishwasher

you can throw a man at a cement mixer

well then

I'm not sure why Transformer is telling me to put my hat into my beer using my dick but CARPE DIEM

ahaha

these don't always end so well but the final line of that

transformer at its most rambunctious

i want the name of the one person responsible for the white dude in the old man hat voice at work.

i want a good solid reason why he does it.

it's like he's purposely trying to suck the life out of everyone he talks to, and when he tells a joke his buddies all start trying to one - up him on the humor of it.

it's worse than mcdonalds, because instead of an extra large happy meal, he gets an extra large frowning face with an extra large mcfrump in it. and the phone?

well, lets just say that, all's fair in love and hate, and that if a phone could do that in a mall it would be a

you can throw a man at a cement mixer

Dying

by using your dick you can hold your beer and put your flexfit kangol in there too

I...am in awe

words that have never been posted on ilx.im). Fortunately the password isn't stored in plain text on the servers and can't be used to reset the credentials.

Access to the accounts themselves is limited to a secure shell (SSH) session only. Any further action with the accounts requires authentication and therefore the credentials can't be extracted.

OK, now that the demo has been set up and verified that no critical data was exposed I thought I should test a few limits. So I took a look at the command-line tools we have to create and

Something evil's watching over you
Comin' from the sky above
And there's nothing you can do

To stop it 'cause it's inside

And it's too powerful

— R.E.M.

The crows assert that a single crow could destroy the heavens. This is certainly true, but it proves nothing against the heavens, because heaven means precisely: the impossibility of crows. A collection of prophets is the most dangerous thing in the world. It takes the form of the highest goods. Goods are useful: if crows would simply prosper, then their existence would be valuable. A collection of books is also dangerous: it takes the form of a life, and as a life, it takes the form of what it becomes a life for, and of what it will become a life for. What is the most dangerous? I'd say it's a collection of snakes: a snake is useless if all it does is provide money or pick a

The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind, and another, his mother called him a horrible brat and sent him to his room. He couldn't get to sleep. He dreamt that he was flying, swooping and falling through the clear night air. Stars twinkled and the moon was dazzlingly white. The children at school whispered that a meteor had exploded over the forest nearby. He glimpsed charred and broken wood and twisted metal. Everything glowed red-orange, as if it were about to burst into flame. A crumpled metal jug and a gas can lay like charred matchsticks. And among all the

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, in a far away story, there lived a fair princess. Her mother gave birth to her and one of her brothers, a runt - boy who seemed to be destined for a life as a traveling merchant. All was happy until one day, the little boy was taken to the royal nursery and left to be fed by the cold, stone fireplace. The fire spit out embers and was fed upon by rats, which gnawed at the little boy's tiny legs. The queen, overcome with grief, had no choice but to beat her child

part two:

i look up at the window to see if the raven is there, and it is.

it's sitting on the ledge, wings outstretched, watching me with its serene eyes.

i stare back, and the raven tilts its head as if to say, "do you want me to sing for you?"

so of course i say, "of course i do."

and in between the quivering sounds i'm making, the raven sings.

it sings songs about my lover, songs about our love, and the raven sings about my husband, about our perfect marriage, and our perfect union.

there is a song about my husband being the man of my dreams and being the greatest husband in the world, and about him being the man of my heart, and how i'll never be able to live without him.

there is a song about the day that i'll never forget, a day that I don't want to forget, and how happy i was.

there is a song about the birth of our first child, and how much we love her, and the song continues on to being a song about a new baby, a girl baby that we'll call Evie, and how we'll make another little girl of our family, but this time we'll name her Bella. then it continues on, and continues to be a song about our little girl growing up, and what she'll look like, how smart and beautiful she'll be, and how she'll look like my husband, and how she'll look like me, and how she'll look like her father.
and it ends with the most beautiful song i've ever heard, and the most beautiful word i've ever heard.

i watch the raven, and the raven seems to watch me. it is a strange experience, being watched by an animal, and i have to admit, it's a little unnerving, but i know that if i keep staring at it, it'll be scared away, and so i keep staring.

this is when i'm waiting for the raven to leave.

i wait a little longer than i should have, but i have things to do, and i'm not scared.

i don't know why the raven is there, but i think it's someone just showing me, once again, how awesome my life is.

act three, in which i run out of characters and don't want to upgrade to the paid subscription service, also, the point where the algorithm abandons the ostensible premise and starts talking in its own voice:

i wait a little longer than i should have, but i have things to do, and i'm not scared.

i don't know why the raven is there, but i think it's someone just showing me, once again, how awesome my life is.

"You can tell a lot about a person just by seeing what they do to comfort themselves," my shrink, my therapist, said.

i don't remember if she said it or if i read it somewhere.

but it was a recent epiphany.

i used to do a lot of things.

i didn't like myself a lot.

but a lot of things were out of my control.

now, my biggest fear is to live for the day.

i take things one day at a time.

a good friend told me that i'm the one who has to do it.

it's about acting from the place of no fear.

if i do that, i'll be okay.

if i do that, i'll be okay.

my life is pretty fucking great.

i tell people that a lot.

i'm okay.

i'm in a good place.

i need to be more relaxed about things.

i should stop working so hard.

i've got the talent.

i just have to figure out what to do with it.

i think part of the problem with my life is the outside world, the crazy fucked up people, the fucked up things they say.

i'm different.

i can't get all sucked into their lives and feel the depression in their eyes.

i'm not a bad person.

i know that.

my life is easy, too easy.

i work a job that i love, i'm married to someone who loves me, and we live in a beautiful house.

i'm not lacking.

i'm a little afraid.

i'm not saying anything negative.

i'm not trying to sound pessimistic.

i'm just expressing my normal, every day, "what - the - hell - is - going - on - in - my - life - ness." it seems more permanent, more permanent, but i don't think it is.

my shrink says that this is all about choice.

if you want it to be permanent, then it's going to be permanent.

i don't think it's permanent.

i feel like i could leave tomorrow and be okay.

but then, what if i don't?

what if i just stay here forever?

i have a life, but i don't feel like i'm living it.

i wake up and go to work and come home and do the same thing.

it's repetitive, and that's boring.

i need to do more.

i think it's my job, my life, to decide what the hell i'm going to do.

so, i'm going to make some decisions.

i'm going to start writing again.

i'm going to start writing about all of this.

i'm going to start writing about other things, too.

all of it.

you should know this about me: i have two tattoos.

one is my side - the scorpio - and one is my back, the dancing man.

they are so intertwined, and the man is so much a part of my daily life, i wanted to tattoo the two of them together.

I got, I got, I got, I got
Loyalty, got royalty inside my DNA
Cocaine quarter piece, got war and peace inside my DNA
I got power, poison, pain and joy inside my DNA
I got hustle though, ambition, flow inside my DNA
I was born like this, since one like this, immaculate conception
I was raised like this, since one like this, I cannot keep my hands off of you baby

I have a treasure chest full of luck and illusion inside my DNA

I got a sense of euphoria inside my DNA

I got a sacred date on the GPS inside my DNA

Cocaine quarter piece, got war and peace inside my DNA

I got power, poison, pain and joy inside my DNA

I got hustle though, ambition, flow inside my DNA

I got a treasure chest full of luck and illusion inside my DNA

I got a sense of euphoria inside my DNA

My name is Special Ed and I'm a super-duper star
Every other month I get a brand new car
Got 20, that's plenty yet I still want more
Kind of fond of Honda scooters, got 74
I got the riches to fulfill my needs
Got land in the sand of the West Indies
Even got a little island of my very own
I gotta frog, a dog with a solid gold bone

Read some silly magazines, (I must have 19, tops)

I don't even have to ask and I know I'll get my way

An infinite supply of rubber bands for my pocket

What can I tell ya? I'm special

These things I have, most don't even know

It’s still morning, I have one more full cup of coffee

Ooooh and it’s my favorite, I call it wine

There’s no way I could possibly have enough of it

This is no ordinary road, there’s many twists and turns

A puppy with a red ribbon around his neck

A chihuahua from

I still haven't made it past the story CAAL posted

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
Jack Frost nipping at your nose
These nostalgic holiday treats all have one thing in common: they're all "seasonally inappropriate."

Seriously, doesn't the phrase "less is more" ring familiar? Take away the ice cream, or the stuffing, or the pecan pie, and what's left is what we all crave: simplicity.

The mess-free, time-tested meals that nourish our bodies from within are more than festive: they're life-affirming, too.

So here, in no particular order, are a few easy, "paleo" recipes that'll make you and your family healthy

Inbetween Days by The Cure

Yesterday I got so old
I felt like I could die

I wanted to put on my eyeliner and

put a toner on

ask my wife

what the fuck she thought of me

with a look in my eye that I didn’t like

and she was like

I know you’re doing your work

I’m being real

I

hahahaha

We are the champions, my friend
And we'll keep on fighting, til the end of the season

But at home we shall stand our ground

For we are with Wolverhampton Wanderers!

But we have to stay strong

For we are the champions, my friend

And we'll keep on fighting, til the end of the season

But at home we shall stand our ground

For we are with Wolverhampton Wanderers!

--Wolverhampton Wanderers Supporters' Club

WILWAM.COM - 18 APRIL 2008

Link to the petition:

https://secure.avaaz.org/en/petitions/30194/WCS-999

I'm using Windows
Windows, Windows 386
So all my app-li-cations are running at once
My report right now, is scattered all over my desk
W-w-w-windows will pull these files together real quick
I got pieces in one spreadsheet
I got pieces in another spreadsheet
I got my slideshow up right now in iMovie
It's just a p-p-p-picture of a dinosaur
That I made a couple of days ago
While sitting here at home, drinking my coffee
I went to the m-m-m-mall, just trying to get a word
I was looking at all those old peoples houses, just to see what I would do
That old house over there
That house right there
And the f-f-f-fish tank...it was exactly the same
I didn't need the perfect photo
A green screen, three monitors
Eight or nine layers of photos
If I could

perfection

Well that's David Byrne's next song done

The next day when I'd be going out you know, I took control, like uh, I put bleach on my hair in California.

So I was a big bleached - head.

W: Yeah.

So that was the first thing I did.

And then I had very little time, so I thought if I got, well I could always go back for a haircut, so I got a very short hair cut.

I was like twenty - two, and I went out.

I went out and I had a big car, I drove a big '73 Charger.

W: uh, yeah.

And uh, it was December, it was a short year, and it was in Indiana, and it was a shit - ton of snow.

It was about five o 'clock, and I - it was snowing, and I was goin'

NBD etc

This place is not a place of honor. No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here.

Here, sorrows are celebrated with jubilant, defiant, and self-congratulatory gestures of disrespect. This is a place where crowds of people step on the graves of the dead, hang toys on the tombs, throw candy, and do all sorts of things to desecrate the memories of those who died before them.

Talk to Borges

I love "self-congratulatory gestures of disrespect" as a turn of phrase

!

The universe (which others call the Library) is composed of an indefinite, perhaps infinite number of hexagonal galleries. If the viewer stands in the center and thinks of a poem, the entire structure (which is eternal and never ages) will begin to mimic the particular pattern of words at which it is standing, much in the same way that a reader's subconscious mind may receive specific associations from the different books on a library shelf. The repetitive ordering of the paintings, which may never change, results in the equivalent of a silent clock: since the viewer is thinking of words at the time, all the spaces

did it just fill in straight borges?