who am i
graphics
write
play
Art Runs In My Family
the book is empty from the sparrow's point of view - dave carter
May 2008
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5/9/08 11:39 pm
travel and adventure
a sort of related set...
5/8/08 11:39 pm
icon: a fairly large media set
this set has lots of xfiles (though I have dropped that game now)
5/7/08 11:52 pm
icons: anime set
from the anime games we play in. We should get Jim to share his entries, too...
5/4/08 11:41 pm
icon set: flora and fauna
Birds and Bees... and poppies....
5/3/08 11:50 pm
icons, foodies
I have a lot of really random icons in the vault, so you may see some strange categories go by... these have something to do with eating or drinking...
5/2/08 11:45 pm
icon post - LoTR Guys
from various games I play in...
5/2/08 12:04 am
separated at birth
separated at birth / Janet-Lee-Van-Cleef episode
At the local Red Robin, one of the many "decor" photos is a photo of Janet Leigh in the Psycho shower scene which, for some unknown reason, is wearing a big black mustache. It always makes me say aloud: Janet-Lee-Van-Cleef.
We were there not too long ago, and they sat us so that Chris was facing the photo, which caused her to burst out laughing. (Apparently, she never knew *why* I was saying it, she just thought it was some lucky superstition of mine)
what do you think? (photo from Jim's work phone)


4/17/08 02:08 am
Sims, start your stoves!!
The Grilled Cheese Invitational Bread. Butter. Cheese. Victory!
as seen in BoingBoing:

A new competitive sport is emerging in cities across America. "Grilled Cheese Invitationals" are kinda like a WWF tournament meets hot Velveeta, and the queso combat is coming next to LA, this Saturday, April 19. The sammich definitions are as follows:
# The Missionary Position: White bread, orange cheese (Cheddar or American) and butter or margarine only. # Spoons: Any kind of bread, any kind of butter and any kind of cheese (or combination of cheeses) but no additional ingredients. # The Kama Sutra: Any kind of bread, any kind of butter, and any kind of cheese (or blend of cheeses) plus additional ingredients. # The Honey Pot: Any kind of bread, any kind of butter, any kind of cheese (or blend of cheeses), and any additional ingredients, but a sandwich that is sweet in flavor, or would best be served as dessert.
4/11/08 03:01 am
national poetry month
Especially for a woman, reading By Sue MacLeod
Especially in the afternoon when light slants through the window, grazing her cheek on its way to the page. For a woman who appreciates that kind of light for reading. Especially in mornings, when coffee makers groan. When everyone else is still climbing, still hand- over-handing their way up from dreams. For the book that fell into the bath and was fished out--quickly. For the line that swam before her as she fell asleep. In stolen time: the check-out line, the way to work. In fits and starts of traffic, in the press of bodies. Especially for anyone who's ever missed her stop. For anyone who's laughed out loud while reading in a restaurant. Or ever thought of writing to a stranger: You told my story. How did you know?
Especially for a teenage girl whose touch turns bookmarks into ash. And so she uses rubber bands, a roll of tape, a stray sock, a receipt, or my book to hold her place open. Who won't come to supper till she finishes her page. For a grandmother I know about, who stirred with a book in one hand. For everyone stirring with words in their hands. For anyone who's ever grasped a book in two hands. Hold your breath and crack it open. For books that have burned to be written. Books thrown into the fire because supper wasn't ready, or her chores had not been done. For anyone who's ever had anyone tell her: All that reading makes you think too much.
Especially when the leaves against the window are a chorus from another time. When evening comes, a woman stretches one curved arm to reach the light behind her. She is reading while the birds take roost, and punctuate the branches. Reading till her book is finished. Reading like a girl.
4/11/08 02:56 am
fyi...
John Young, a contributor to MAKE, is going to host a gorilla suit making workshop in Philadelphia. Info here.
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Police in Saitama Prefecture arrested several people for filming a porn flick in McDonald’s. One of the suspects was quoted by police as saying, “We didn’t think it would be a problem as long as nobody noticed what we were doing.”
4/8/08 04:59 am
Brown Penny William Butler Yeats
I whispered, "I am too young," And then, "I am old enough;" Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love.
"Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair." Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing, There is nobody wise enough To find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love.
Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon. Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon.
4/5/08 05:22 am
final prayer vic coccimiglio
Lord, please let this six feet of earth be the last darkness I will ever know
4/4/08 04:17 am
To make a prairie - Emily Dickinson
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, - One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do If bees are few.
4/3/08 04:09 am
Her breast is fit for pearls emily dickinson
Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a "Diver" - Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest.
Her heart is fit for home- I - a Sparrow - build there sweet of twigs and twine My perennial nest.
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4/2/08 04:08 am
heron
Sam Hamill: Black Marsh Eclogue
Although it is midsummer, the great blue heron holds darkest winter in his hunched shoulders, those blue-turning-gray clouds rising over him like a storm from the Pacific.
He stands in the black marsh more monument than bird, a wizened prophet returned from a vanished mythology. He watches the hearts of things and does not move or speak. But when at last he flies, his great wings
cover the darkening sky, and slowly, as though praying, he lifts, almost motionless, as he pushes the world away.
4/1/08 04:40 am
national poetry month
Humming-Bird by D.H. Lawrence
I can imagine, in some otherworld Primeval-dumb, far back In that most awful stillness, that only gasped and hummed, Humming-birds raced down the avenues.
Before anything had a soul, While life was a heave of matter, half inanimate, This little bit chipped off in brilliance And went whizzing through the slow, vast, succulent stems.
I believe there were no flowers then, In the world where the humming-bird flashed ahead of creation. I believe he pierced the slow vegetable veins with his long beak.
Probably he was big As mosses, and little lizards, they say, were once big. Probably he was a jabbing, terrifying monster.
We look at him through the wrong end of the telescope of Time, Luckily for us.
3/1/08 10:13 pm
type geeking
A new typography term from Ironic Sans

2/23/08 11:00 pm
Spongebob Squarepants Musical Rectal Thermometer!

Musical!
I have nothing to add. Here's the link.
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