666Monkey came to the library today; he's ADORABLE! What a cutie!!! I was so excited to meet him I was all goofy and giddy and talked too much too fast about dumb shit; he was very kind to me, bless 'is heart!
********************************
Penny continues to be pure delight. You know you want her.
I got my poi in the mail! Holy shit, they are FUN to swing around, even if they arent on fire! I can hardly wait until the next jam with the Baltimore Calefaction Society!
Im also excited about Capoeira class tonight. Its totally going to kick my ass. I should take before and after pictures: the before picture would show me in yoga pants and t-shirt, hair neatly pinned up, and the after picture would be the back of the ambulance taking me to the ER.
Todays favorite poem is by The Moth of Amherst, Emily Dickinson. This and her other love poems puzzle me because she didnt get out much and seldom had visitors. What the hell could she possibly know about a wild night? Then again, maybe its because she had no previous experience with such things that make poems like this so wonderful---all she had was her imagination, her limitless imagination: nothing to censor her.
Wild Nights -- Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile -- the Winds --
To a Heart in port --
Done with the Compass --
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden --
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor -- Tonight --
In Thee!
Did you know that you can sing a lot of Dickinsons poetry to the tunes of The Yellow Rose of Texas and the theme song to Gilligans Island? It doesnt work on Wild Nights, but try it on this one:
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 't is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
Fun, innit? Youre welcome.
********************************
Penny continues to be pure delight. You know you want her.
I got my poi in the mail! Holy shit, they are FUN to swing around, even if they arent on fire! I can hardly wait until the next jam with the Baltimore Calefaction Society!
Im also excited about Capoeira class tonight. Its totally going to kick my ass. I should take before and after pictures: the before picture would show me in yoga pants and t-shirt, hair neatly pinned up, and the after picture would be the back of the ambulance taking me to the ER.
Todays favorite poem is by The Moth of Amherst, Emily Dickinson. This and her other love poems puzzle me because she didnt get out much and seldom had visitors. What the hell could she possibly know about a wild night? Then again, maybe its because she had no previous experience with such things that make poems like this so wonderful---all she had was her imagination, her limitless imagination: nothing to censor her.
Wild Nights -- Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile -- the Winds --
To a Heart in port --
Done with the Compass --
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden --
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor -- Tonight --
In Thee!
Did you know that you can sing a lot of Dickinsons poetry to the tunes of The Yellow Rose of Texas and the theme song to Gilligans Island? It doesnt work on Wild Nights, but try it on this one:
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 't is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
Fun, innit? Youre welcome.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
were toward eternityyyyyyyyy
Once I heard somebody sing the Gilligan's Island Theme to the tune of "Stairway to Heaven." That was cool.
Thanks for the compliments sweetie. Nah, you weren't acting goofy. Well, any goofier than expected anyway.
I, on the other hand, was 1.) filthy from working on the house, 2.) STANKY from working on the house, 3.) tired from working on the house and work work, and 4.) brain dead for some unknown reason. I swear somebody neutralized my brain with novocaine this morning or something. It was in park all day long.
Lokin' forward to ridin' with the other half of the SG Motorcycle Club Bawlmr Posse ASAP!