“Little boys always be to want flyin. Dey always did tryin t’love. Der comes one sertin day fer ever’boy, der duz, dat love izn’t enuf an’he iz offerd a chance t’fly. You’ll leave me den, my Jonny.”
Thursday, 21 June 2012
TWO CUBES OVER
(Putting the phone down none too gently.)
Jesus fucking Christ. Will someone tell me how the fuck she makes 40K a year more than me?
Um… I’ll take a stab at it. Because she’s not a foul-mouthed misogynist with an attitude problem and no sense of decorum. I think that might be getting warm.
About · Referring queries · Random article · Random doc · Recent comments (XML) · Contact · XML/Atom
articles · document pages
2
» Priorities starting with the letter “i”
» Please and Thank You, my 420 present to the world
» Tax Day
» Dorsal anatomical expertise in carcharhiniformes
» Britney Spears on the cover of Rolling Stone again
» Questions from the chalkboard #7: All too well titled for America
» I had the password to the CC Motel at Amazon.com…
» Lost notes #2: on your left-leaning, liberal, education-centric politics
» You know who plays Stratocasters?
» I HAZ AN APOLOGEE FOR TEH WERLD DIS ELEKSHUN NITE -- OSRRIES!
» My new album hits the shops…
» Secret messages out in the open #20
» Discoveries that have been complete disasters for me, in chronological order
» Convert image sources to data URI with Perl: img2data
» Flugblätter der Widerstandsbewegung in Deutschland.
» Flugblätter der Weissen Rose. IV
» Flugblätter der Weissen Rose. III
» Flugblätter der Weissen Rose. II
We use carbon neutral web hosting to serve pages and our software, images, and auxiliary content are developed using 100% wind power; no, seriously.
A Milkmaid had been out to milk the cows and was returning from the field with the shining milk pail balanced nicely on her head. As she walked along, her pretty head was busy with plans for the days to come.
“This good, rich milk,” she mused, “will give me plenty of cream to churn. The butter I make I will take to market, and with the money I get for it I will buy a lot of eggs for hatching. How nice it will be when they are all hatched and the yard is full of fine young chicks. Then when May day comes I will sell them, and with the money I’ll buy a lovely new dress to wear to the fair. All the young men will look at me. They will come and try to make love to me,—but I shall very quickly send them about their business!”
As she thought of how she would settle that matter, she tossed her head scornfully, and down fell the pail of milk to the ground. And all the milk flowed out, and with it vanished butter and eggs and chicks and new dress and all the milkmaid’s pride.
Take that, subspace.
