the birds are all the clutter of your soul, in the cross of your hair!
Another day in which I have done very little, though at least I did a load of laundry, make a few phone calls, bought catfish pieces at the grocery store, and read a bit (some of Michael Shermer's Why Darwin Matters and some stuff online). Mostly I rested in bed, nursing a succession of cups of hot tea. Fried some catfish (unbreaded), onions, brown rice, and broccoli for supper and am thinking about eating some more.
Current plans: Watch tonight's episode of House (I missed last week's) and probably Bones. Try to get a good night's sleep. Go Do Stuff tomorrow because it is high time for Stuff to be Done already.
Current MegaHAL poem:
Let us put man and woman.
i come from eggs
4 large white briefs like a flag under fire,
like amber, musk, benzoin and incense
that fills his fetid home
take a look to my enemies,
fuzzy grenades to lob through the crooked lanes open wide,
then they swarm around me,
thinks these dark days of sugar making then have fully come;
for in that neighborhood.
why you turning green, good buddy?
it's just that i heard him cussin',
he went galumphing back.
"and hast thou slain the jabberwock?
come to me, what have they in sight?
why speak of love for a while,
a dead bird released
with animal heads?
though come to scold him.
spirit of lakes and ponds where waters gather.
"why you turning green, good buddy?" Well, it might have something to do with the large (very large?) briefs that fill his fetid home, HAL. I'm not quite sure if the fuzzy grenades are the briefs (time for laundry!), the enemies, or something else, but the thought of fuzzy briefs swarming around me certainly makes me think of turning green. The horrors of a mere Jabberwock pale in comparison.
Current plans: Watch tonight's episode of House (I missed last week's) and probably Bones. Try to get a good night's sleep. Go Do Stuff tomorrow because it is high time for Stuff to be Done already.
Current MegaHAL poem:
Let us put man and woman.
i come from eggs
4 large white briefs like a flag under fire,
like amber, musk, benzoin and incense
that fills his fetid home
take a look to my enemies,
fuzzy grenades to lob through the crooked lanes open wide,
then they swarm around me,
thinks these dark days of sugar making then have fully come;
for in that neighborhood.
why you turning green, good buddy?
it's just that i heard him cussin',
he went galumphing back.
"and hast thou slain the jabberwock?
come to me, what have they in sight?
why speak of love for a while,
a dead bird released
with animal heads?
though come to scold him.
spirit of lakes and ponds where waters gather.
"why you turning green, good buddy?" Well, it might have something to do with the large (very large?) briefs that fill his fetid home, HAL. I'm not quite sure if the fuzzy grenades are the briefs (time for laundry!), the enemies, or something else, but the thought of fuzzy briefs swarming around me certainly makes me think of turning green. The horrors of a mere Jabberwock pale in comparison.