That's right. Fun.
The owner of a pub called The Tween and Twixt decided to commission a new sign. Upon viewing the new sign, he felt that something was a little off. While talking it over with the artist, the pub owner made the following request. "Can you make the spacing equal between Tween and and and and and Twixt?"
Did you know that that that that that boy used is incorrect?
James, while John had had "had", had had "had had". "Had had" had had the approval of the grammar teacher.
This post brought to you by the good people at zfilter and painintheenglish.
Phenylethylamine: is it in you?
I've noticed that things have seemed a trifle grim on this here weblog. In the interest of provoking some smiles, I've decided to post a humorous telephone conversation I had a little while ago. I was talking to Craig, the de facto leader of the British wing of the Marshall family, known for his fanatical devotion to scotch and his equally fanatical dedication to the cause. The cause, of course, being complete global domination. This fanaticism has allowed Marshall HQ to ignore Craig's, shall we say, less salacious activities?
We were discussing the nascent Marshall, currently in a fetal stage of development. We had been hashing out indoctrination responsibilities, who would be in charge of arms training, who the delicate arts of psychological warfare, and so forth. If I recall correctly, Craig had just mentioned the benefits of being an out of town pedagogue, a position which will allow us to administer from afar without, as it were, getting our hands dirty. Here I will attempt to reconstruct our descent into inanity.
Craig (and I can only assume that at this point he was holding an imaginary baby at arm's length and wrinkling his nose) said, "This baby seems to have gone bad. Could you get me a fresh one?"
I laughed and responded, "No, no, it's still good. I think we can cut away the bad parts and eat the rest."
Craig achieved a new sound, born of attempting to laugh and groan with disgust at the same time.
Thusly challenged, I thought fast and came up with, "It's like cheese!", at which point rational thought ceased and we shouted out manic bursts of high-volume laughter, causing one of my roommates to inquire as to what was funny, and another to request that I tone it down a bit.
And that's that. A decent check to see if my sense of humor is still functional, if a trifle on the warped side of things, which I hear happens if you don't leave it out to dry in the sun.
We were discussing the nascent Marshall, currently in a fetal stage of development. We had been hashing out indoctrination responsibilities, who would be in charge of arms training, who the delicate arts of psychological warfare, and so forth. If I recall correctly, Craig had just mentioned the benefits of being an out of town pedagogue, a position which will allow us to administer from afar without, as it were, getting our hands dirty. Here I will attempt to reconstruct our descent into inanity.
Craig (and I can only assume that at this point he was holding an imaginary baby at arm's length and wrinkling his nose) said, "This baby seems to have gone bad. Could you get me a fresh one?"
I laughed and responded, "No, no, it's still good. I think we can cut away the bad parts and eat the rest."
Craig achieved a new sound, born of attempting to laugh and groan with disgust at the same time.
Thusly challenged, I thought fast and came up with, "It's like cheese!", at which point rational thought ceased and we shouted out manic bursts of high-volume laughter, causing one of my roommates to inquire as to what was funny, and another to request that I tone it down a bit.
And that's that. A decent check to see if my sense of humor is still functional, if a trifle on the warped side of things, which I hear happens if you don't leave it out to dry in the sun.
I think I'll call it ground
Every once in a while my confidence in people is crushed under a giant steamroller. Right now appears to be one of those times. And that's kind of weird, as nobody has really done anything awful to me in a while. Everything's been going along pretty much as usual. There's all that normal functional behaviour of smiles and sunshine, but I'm finding myself unaccountably blinking into distrust. It's a lot like coming down from a powerful hallucinogen. I'll think everything's great and I'm capable of conducting myself in a semi-appropriate manner in public, when all of a sudden reality will have a fit of self-doubt and collapse in on itself, leaving me wondering just what the hell is real, and what do I mean when I say me anyway?
It's really awkward if this happens when I'm socializing. I just zone out and people have to repeat themselves because I'm not listening. This happens all the time to everyone, but I'm starting to think it's becoming a pattern of thought for me, which is slightly worrying. In these moments I wonder if I'll ever meet anyone who will be completely honest. None of those lies for the sake of convenience, none of that shit we all get away with every day.
Perhaps I should get back on the happies.
It's really awkward if this happens when I'm socializing. I just zone out and people have to repeat themselves because I'm not listening. This happens all the time to everyone, but I'm starting to think it's becoming a pattern of thought for me, which is slightly worrying. In these moments I wonder if I'll ever meet anyone who will be completely honest. None of those lies for the sake of convenience, none of that shit we all get away with every day.
Perhaps I should get back on the happies.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
