Bath Naked vs Bath With Soap.... now there's an interesting set of options.
Are these rules? If you go naked, does that mean you can't use soap? and if you use soap, do you have to be dressed for the occasion?
Or are they social mores? Is being naked better than not using soap for a few days or weeks? maybe for you personally, but I suggest your neighbors on the bus might be doubly upset -- by your smell and by the crack in your ass [of course, it all depends on how shapely that ass really is].
I know I'm killing the joke by asking the obvious and pointing out possible interpretations, but what the heck do you want from a guy who misspelled McLuhan in the last blog he sent. I was beside myself with embarrassment when I realized that I butchered his name so badly and in such a public forum. How stupid I looked, esp in my own eyes, which see so deeply into the dark recesses of my mis-matched soul [like wearing one orange and one blue sock and brown shoes with the blue suit]. So I am now officially apologizing for that massacre [misspelling McLuhan's name, not about any sartorial faux pas -- because I don't commit sins of the latter nature, and only recently am I committing more sins of the former nature as I advance in age if not in wisdom].
Speaking of socks [in a segue that makes no sense at all], among the 109 rules pushed down the throats of the people of Beijing to get them to behave appropriately for the Olympics of Olympics [and what a wow experience], one clearly stated: do not wear white socks with black shoes and a dark suit [classy cool in the big cities]. Another: do not wear pyjamas in public [couture in some parts of China]. And yet another: do not spit in public [a symphonic joy in a restaurant filled with Chinese nationals -- even if you don't see the expecterant, your imagination goes into full gear as you snuffle up dinner]. Back to other realities.....
Irish - priest - pub - beer: are you trying to say something profound? or are you just stating the obvious? As a grand master of stating the obvious in most profound ways, I must advise that you have some work to do.
Develop a cynical, bitter edge. Learn to become profoundly drunk, as only the Irish or Welsh can. Write poetry in a stupor. Wax on eloquently like a blotto Jason Robards in Moon for the Misbegotten. Become misbegotten under milkwood, and curse the night for its darkness.
Consider the world is full of blackards out to get you, but recognize that paranoia is for sissies. Follow Synge to the western world [Aran Islands, to you lads and lassies] and be prepared to crack your dah on the pate with a shovel. And that's what Irish playboys do...so different from American giggolos, and nothing like the magazine [I used to buy it for the slut-and-drool-factor; to hell with the stupid stories].
Only then can you point to the Irish-priest-pub-beer formula with true snide conviction. Half laugh, half bitter disdain.
Although, your photos are ever so wonderful. Those red-assed monkeys are everywhere, eh.
1 comment:
Bath Naked vs Bath With Soap.... now there's an interesting set of options.
Are these rules? If you go naked, does that mean you can't use soap? and if you use soap, do you have to be dressed for the occasion?
Or are they social mores? Is being naked better than not using soap for a few days or weeks? maybe for you personally, but I suggest your neighbors on the bus might be doubly upset -- by your smell and by the crack in your ass [of course, it all depends on how shapely that ass really is].
I know I'm killing the joke by asking the obvious and pointing out possible interpretations, but what the heck do you want from a guy who misspelled McLuhan in the last blog he sent. I was beside myself with embarrassment when I realized that I butchered his name so badly and in such a public forum. How stupid I looked, esp in my own eyes, which see so deeply into the dark recesses of my mis-matched soul [like wearing one orange and one blue sock and brown shoes with the blue suit]. So I am now officially apologizing for that massacre [misspelling McLuhan's name, not about any sartorial faux pas -- because I don't commit sins of the latter nature, and only recently am I committing more sins of the former nature as I advance in age if not in wisdom].
Speaking of socks [in a segue that makes no sense at all], among the 109 rules pushed down the throats of the people of Beijing to get them to behave appropriately for the Olympics of Olympics [and what a wow experience], one clearly stated: do not wear white socks with black shoes and a dark suit [classy cool in the big cities]. Another: do not wear pyjamas in public [couture in some parts of China]. And yet another: do not spit in public [a symphonic joy in a restaurant filled with Chinese nationals -- even if you don't see the expecterant, your imagination goes into full gear as you snuffle up dinner]. Back to other realities.....
Irish - priest - pub - beer: are you trying to say something profound? or are you just stating the obvious? As a grand master of stating the obvious in most profound ways, I must advise that you have some work to do.
Develop a cynical, bitter edge. Learn to become profoundly drunk, as only the Irish or Welsh can. Write poetry in a stupor. Wax on eloquently like a blotto Jason Robards in Moon for the Misbegotten. Become misbegotten under milkwood, and curse the night for its darkness.
Consider the world is full of blackards out to get you, but recognize that paranoia is for sissies. Follow Synge to the western world [Aran Islands, to you lads and lassies] and be prepared to crack your dah on the pate with a shovel. And that's what Irish playboys do...so different from American giggolos, and nothing like the magazine [I used to buy it for the slut-and-drool-factor; to hell with the stupid stories].
Only then can you point to the Irish-priest-pub-beer formula with true snide conviction. Half laugh, half bitter disdain.
Although, your photos are ever so wonderful. Those red-assed monkeys are everywhere, eh.
ta-ta...victor
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