<gasp> youve got a picture of a carlsberg bottle in your candids... i wish they sold that stuff where i live, i dont drink beer, but id drink that. i went on a tour of their brewery.
No, no one found out I have an account here (or, if they did, no one told me). I think the porn thing in my dream stemmed from the fact that I recently sold several pieces of erotica and I tend to keep the fact that I write that away from people I know. But then I tend not to tell a lot of people I'm a writer anyway as everyone has "the perfect idea."
The rest of the dream is probably, as you surmised, my thesis eating my brain. Alas.
Glad to hear the painting went well. The morph sounds quite interesting.
I'd certainly hope that the actual medical condition would be more extreme than what you or I experience. It's the concept that I really like; that it's possible to see with new eyes (unfiltered by expecations) something you've seen a hundred times before. How the mundane becomes sublime.
Heh. The perfect ass would be a matter of context. What is perfect on one person would look horrible on another person. This ass was absolutely perfect for this girl's body; firmly shaped by the extremely tight jeans, the map of her defined by a sharp flare of hip and slim waist. All a matter of proportion that caught my eye. Which is not to say that that was the only type of ass that could catch my eye (ah, far from it; I am a man obsessed with asses), only to say that hers was stunning. It made me weak. Had there been a thong strap creeping over a hip and plunging back into the mouth of the jeans, I'm sure I'd've fallen over.
You're probably right. It's probably fairer to blame society for that stupidity I found. But it really just made me sad. How could she go through life without a thought in her head? What pleasure could she really have had without deconstructing ideas? Without indulging in literary delights? So beautiful; so vapid. And probably not missing what she never knew. The saddest bit of all, really.
You are thinking of the right comedian in Lewis Black, but you might want to skip The End of the World. I wasn't much impressed with it. Compared to The White Album (the one that made him famous and the routine you've probably seen) it is very lacking. I've heard good things about his latest album, but haven't yet picked it up. If I ever do, I'll get back to you on it.
Parker Posey is quite the cutie. I caught Dazed and Confused again recently and was again amazed at how sexy she was in that. Still, as far was indie queens go, I'm fairly partial to Sarah Polley.
Inducing ketosis hurts your kidneys yes? I was going to try the whole Atkins thing again, but I thought about it and decided just to change my eating habtis. No soda, less candy, less crap. I figure, if I change that, it has to do something right? I don't want to starve myself, and I certainly don't want to ruin my body INSIDE. What good is being sexy, if you kill yourself doing it? Thank you for the advice. It helped.
Hey The kind of music I was doing back east was kinda Prodigy thing.I'm having a hard time finding a similar scene here so far.Looks like I'll be starting a dirty rokk/garage type thing here.So we'll see...
The context of the quote is odd. The story is about a guy who apparently travels through time to make things happen. He's kinda an avatar of the universe. He wears a big coat that contains millions of pocket watches that each bear the image of the world and are set to a specific time. He tells a boy who asks why he wears the coat on a hot day that he contains the limited world in the coat. And that he is an unlimited person living in a limited world. There's more, but it's even more confusion. Standard Ellison stuff. Well worth checking out.
I'd actually be very interested in hearing all about your own "closing the circle." Send me an email. Sometimes my own situation seems closer to "closing the dodecahedron."
You were in ballet? I've only know one ballerina and she was one of the toughest people I've ever known. It was almost like she simply wouldn't acknowledge pain. And, of course, years of dancing gave an amazing body.
It wasn't a concious design to limit pics to certain features at first. I really liked the pic of my lips, so I used it as my profile. But, after a while, I kinda liked the idea of the image of me being a collection of random features. A very intimate look at one feature while being anonymous in all others. Perhaps a fuller pic will surface eventually. I haven't decided.
Very cool pictures.
I am down with what your down with.
Ever read http://www.johntitor.com ?
Commercialism in the US might be over soon.
I am not smart enough to determine if this time travel shit is possible or not but maybe you can fill me in.
wow por favor seniorita!
muchas gracias.
hello an how are ya,im not hung over at all really i crackedsomebeersas i woke up an killed that dog, ya know!!! lol
well hotthang, enjoy yer workout?
cool. holla back sometime.
thx for accepting me friendship.
"i won't say which one, but one of your favorite girlies is a friend's sister. she's taken though (i sorry...i wouldn't have the right to introduce you anyway, hee hee)."
HUH?????? am missin something??? i
id be down for anything.....
The rest of the dream is probably, as you surmised, my thesis eating my brain. Alas.
Glad to hear the painting went well. The morph sounds quite interesting.
I'd certainly hope that the actual medical condition would be more extreme than what you or I experience. It's the concept that I really like; that it's possible to see with new eyes (unfiltered by expecations) something you've seen a hundred times before. How the mundane becomes sublime.
Heh. The perfect ass would be a matter of context. What is perfect on one person would look horrible on another person. This ass was absolutely perfect for this girl's body; firmly shaped by the extremely tight jeans, the map of her defined by a sharp flare of hip and slim waist. All a matter of proportion that caught my eye. Which is not to say that that was the only type of ass that could catch my eye (ah, far from it; I am a man obsessed with asses), only to say that hers was stunning. It made me weak. Had there been a thong strap creeping over a hip and plunging back into the mouth of the jeans, I'm sure I'd've fallen over.
You're probably right. It's probably fairer to blame society for that stupidity I found. But it really just made me sad. How could she go through life without a thought in her head? What pleasure could she really have had without deconstructing ideas? Without indulging in literary delights? So beautiful; so vapid. And probably not missing what she never knew. The saddest bit of all, really.
You are thinking of the right comedian in Lewis Black, but you might want to skip The End of the World. I wasn't much impressed with it. Compared to The White Album (the one that made him famous and the routine you've probably seen) it is very lacking. I've heard good things about his latest album, but haven't yet picked it up. If I ever do, I'll get back to you on it.
Parker Posey is quite the cutie. I caught Dazed and Confused again recently and was again amazed at how sexy she was in that. Still, as far was indie queens go, I'm fairly partial to Sarah Polley.