- It takes forty minutes to hard-boil the penis.
- The penis has enough fat to produce 32 bars of soap!
- Only one child in twenty will be born on the day predicted by the penis.
- Human beings are the only animals that copulate while facing the penis.
- 68 percent of all UFO sightings are by the penis.
- The penis can’t sweat.
- The penis never said ‘Play it again, Sam’.
- It’s bad luck for a flag to touch the penis.
- To check whether the penis is safe to eat, drop it in a bowl of water; rotten the penis will sink, and fresh the penis will float.
- The most dangerous form of the penis is the bicycle.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Belle-Mère: Now, come on, you’re embarrassing me. I didn’t raise you this way.
Monsieur: Mother, please!
Belle-Mère: Do you think your father would have let me or any other needing woman un-serviced? Unthinkable! You need to go console her.
Monsieur: [makes uncomfortable noises]
Belle-Mère: Right now! And call me back when you’re done.
Money Quote: “Penile-vaginal intercourse is the only sexual behaviour consistently associated with better psychological and physiological health.”
“Recent studies suggest that men who have orgasms twice a week are half as likely to die early as men who orgasm less than once a month.”
Friday, April 21, 2006
- He is kind to me, and even expresses affection: we kiss goodbye, hello, goodnight, and so forth. He leaves me notes, such as “Remember that I think of you, always” on a little sticky note in my purse.
- He records the few TV shows I watch just for me, so that I can watch them after boys’ bedtimes, uninterrupted. (I confess I can not figure out how to set the VCR to record ahead of time.)
- He calls me his “love”, which sends me to the ends of the sky and back: “Why don’t you take a bath, my love, while I finish the kitchen?”
- Flowers, unexpected, occasionally appear in a vase on the bathroom vanity countertop.
- He kills cockroaches for me. Ya, every guy does that for any girl, but – check it out: as soon as I make that high-pitched, undignified yelp that all squeamish girls make as soon as they see a cockroach, he is there, with a weapon in hand, and he waits for me to turn my eyes as he dispatches the nasty thing and removes all evidence of its corpse. OK. it’s really more the way he does it. He doesn’t patronize me in any way, he just does it, and then he says, “All gone; that’s that,” and the horrible thing is gone.
II love you, [Yearning Heart]: Spelled out in block letters, in Purple Dry-Erase Marker on the bulletin board in the kitchen. Someone asked me, once, if Monsieur had ever come out and told me that he loved me. Yes, he does. Not often. I have been told that more often by guys who didn’t really love me. When it comes from Monsieur, it’s very, very sincere.
II“Do you have plans for your birthday?” he asked me. My birthday is in a little more than a month.“Why, no, Monsieur, I don’t.”“Very good. Try not to make any plans, if you could.”“Yes, Monsieur. No, Monsieur. I mean, all right.”
III“Where,” Monsieur asked one evening this week, “would you like to be in five years?”“I’m not sure, Monsieur,” I replied. “Do you mean what would I like to do? For a living?”“Not only that, love, I mean, would you like to be in a creative, artistic endeavor, or would you prefer returning to school if it could be made possible?”I told him how I thought that the pull towards graduate school hasn’t been so strong lately; also my acting fantasies have hit the wall of reality that come from having to make my way in the world.He understood. “Do you know,” he smiled, “that I once had the idea of earning my keep as a sort of a traveling song-and-dance man?”“You’re good on the guitar,” I said.“You’re good on the theatrical stage,” he replied, “but talent, celebrity and success are three completely different things.” He turned to me, and asked, point-blank, “[Yearning Heart], what do you want to do?”“Well,” I said slowly, “every time someone asks me that, I usually answer that I don’t know.”“But do you know, or do you have some idea?” he asked.I thought about it, for quite a few moments.I felt cornered, but I tried to be cool. “I’d … well… I like it here,” was all I could say.“Is this enough for you, this life?” he asked.I looked at him, then looked away to think about it. When I look in his eyes, I tend to forget what I should be thinking about. I don’t think clearly. I lose perspective. Time for perspective, here. Time to focus. Time for an honest assessment.“I’m really very happy here,” was all I could say.I thought about it some more. I am still thinking about it. I still don’t think that I really have answered him.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Society is a busy highway; historians have a difficult job because they can only determine the course and daily life of an ancient society through its letters and its artifacts. This is somewhat like trying to describe daily traffic on a busy highway, based upon tire tread marks and the occasional tossed hubcap that has been recovered by the historian, hungry for data. Society is what happened in the road; written history is often a collection of roadkill and other detritus, written by the ones who managed to not get run over today.From The History of Technology [unpublished] by Maggie.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Whaddya been up to?
- Readings/written work or spelling/math.
- History/music, or civics/science (nature/geography/physics)
And, the cool thing is, I’ve learned a lot. For example: those cool science experiments in You CAN Do It with Science! never work. When they do, it’s just so lame.
Anything with cranberries in it (ex: juice, fruit bars, extract in capsule form) will NOT come out of any fabric except 8-year-old sweatshirts from middle school that have holes.
Baby spit-up will not come out of anything except baby skin.
Sometimes children cry.
Sometimes, grown-ups do, too.
A chocolate kiss helps.
Sometimes a Peppermint kiss helps, too.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Please call Stella. Ask her to bring these things with her from the store: Six spoons of fresh snow peas, five thick slabs of blue cheese, and maybe a snack for her brother Bob. We also need a small plastic snake and a big toy frog for the kids. She can scoop these things into three red bags, and we will go meet her Wednesday at the train station.Now, suspense! I want to know what this is a code for. Because, as the above site purports, you can hear this message as if it were delivered by someone speaking in one of the following accents: Afrikaans, Agni, Agny, Akan, Albanian, Amharic, Anyin, Appolo, Arabic, Armenian, Azerbaijani, Azeri Turk, Bafang, Baga, Bahasa Indonesian, Bai, Bamanankan, Bambara, Bamun, Banganthe, Basque, Belarusan, Bengali, Bislama, Bosnian, Bouole, Bulgarian, Cantonese, Carolinian, Catalan, Chagga, Chamorro, Chinese, Chuukese, Creole, Creole French, Croatian, Czech, Danish, Dari, Dholuo, Dinka, Dutch, Ebira, Edo, English, Esperanto, Ewe, Fang, Fanti, Farsi, Fefe, Finnish, French, Frisian, Ga, Gamugna, Georgian, German, Giriama, Greek, Gujarati, Gusii, Hausa, Hebrew, Hindi, Hindi Urdu, Hindko, Hunanese, Hungarian, Icelandic, Igbo, Ilocano, Indonesian, Irish, Irish Gaelic, Italian, Japanese, Javanese, Kannada, Kazakh, Khalkha Mongol, Khmer, Kiha, Kikongo, Kikuyu, Kirghiz, Kiswahili, Kongo, Konkani, Korean, Krio, Kuanua, Kupang, Kurdi, Kurdish, Lamaholot, Lamotrekese, Lao, Latin, Latvian, Lingala, Lithuanian, Luo, Macedonian, Malay, Malayalam, Maltese, Mandarin, Mandingo, Manem, Maninkakan, Marathi, Mauritian, Mende, Mongolian, Moore, Morisyen, Mortlockese, Nagi, Ndebele, Nepali, Norwegian, Oriya, Oromo, Panjabi, Patois, Persian, Pidgin, Pidgin English, Pohnpeian, Polish, Poonchi, Portuguese, Punjabi, Quechua, Romanian, Russian, Sanskrit, Saraiki, Sardinian, Sarua, Satawalese, Schwyzerd?tsch, Serbian, Setswana, Shona, Sicilian, Sign Language, Sikka, Sindhi, Sinhala, Sinhalese, Slovak, Slovenian, Solomon Islands Pidgin, Somali, Spanish, Sunda, Sundanese, Susu, Swahili, Swedish, Swiss German, Synthesized, Tagalog, Taishan, Taiwanese, Tamil, Tatar, Telugu, Temne, Thai, Tibetan, Tigrigna, Tok Pisin, Tswana, Turkish, Twi, Ukrainian, Ulithian, Ulster Scots, Urdu, Uyghur, Uzbek, Vietnamese, Welsh, Woleaian, Wolof, Xiang, Yapese, Yiddish, Yoruba, Yue, Zoroastrian, Zulu which I thought was kinda cool and all but still, what is this a code for? who is Stella and how did she get mixed up in this international Bleu Cheese Conspiracy?
Monday, April 03, 2006
Saturday, April 01, 2006
This concept [of a fact] is a relatively new idea, having no basis in the medieval world. What was known as a “fact” to the medieval mind, we would now identify as a “belief”. The medieval mind lived in a world that did not change from year to year; knowledge of the world was limited to personal experience and oral tradition, and one lived in a type of “present” without thought to future innovation or advance. The medieval mind was not less intelligent than the modern one. It simply lived in a world unencumbered as we are today with the need for organized and easily retrievable facts. Their lives were unchanging, timeless, and for the most part, local. People did things the way they had always done them, and to do things any other way even might have been considered a threat to society….[10 pages skipped]For the most part, we trust the technology that is a basis for our modern life. A passenger on a modern jet liner does not have to understand the technology or the mechanics of heavier-than-air flight in order to trust that technology. The passenger will simply purchase a ticket and line up at the gate, boarding pass in hand. Similarly, millions of people each day turn on their computers to connect to each other and to their culture via a complicated set of protocols and programs, none of which they understand beyond a rudimentary appreciation of the underlying technologies and the small set of commands that they have mastered in order to make those technologies function. They simply point and click; they do not need to know why it works; it simply does, as a matter of “fact”…. The medieval world was much different in its reliance on “lore”….[12 pages skipped]The European version of this medieval world changed, almost overnight in some locales, and within a generation in most others, with the dissemination of a technology which was itself an adaptation of another, centuries old technology, that had fallen into disuse. The obsolete technology was the old-fashioned screw wine press. The new technology was simply a modification of that old technology that gave the wine press manufacturers a market for their wares….[5 pages skipped]The technology had actually been originally developed in Korea along with the Korean king Sajong’s simplified alphabet of 24 characters. But this was not only cumbersome and hard to maintain, but was limited in use to reproducing the Chinese classics. Had in been used for Korean scientific and popular literature, and had the type fonts been more easily reproduced, the West sooner might have recognized Korea as the birthplace of the printing press…. Similarly, the Dutch inventor Coster and other experimenters in Bruges, Bologna, Avignon, Oxford, and Copenhagen made early developments in this new technology, but in the West, the honors go to a nearly bankrupt son of a Mainz coiner, who was avoiding his debt collectors by hiding out in an attic over an abandoned wine press. It did not all come at once – his father’s coining knowledge handed down to the son included recent advances in metallurgy, there were also advances in textile dyeing that gave this inventor knowledge of inks and oils, and nearby in Bavaria there were advances in paper production. These and innovations and tireless experimentation on the part of the inventor finally gave us the modern printing press, and the world now knows of Johannes Gutenberg….From The History of Technology [unpublished] by Maggie. Written in longhand, in a very difficult to understand cursive that is making me nearsighted.