i found out i hate libraries
mostly because the people who go there are dicks. i went there to work on the poet project with anna (we got robert burns), and i'm still not really sure why we chose the library. we just ended up using the not-good computer. anyways, we searched around for information on this dude and learned shit, and the whole time we had to whisper because people are dicks. not so much that i don't respect your privacy - oh no, i do. it's the fact that if you even BLINK funny, you get "SHHH"'d. it's true: i got shh'd for tapping my foot. and the worst part is that it's not the librarian - it's some self-rightous asshole next to you that says to shut up.
anyways, we realized that robert burns is the baddest motherfucker ever. he's most famous for the poem "My love is like a red, red rose", which i am reviewing. however, we found a huge buttload of awesome poems he wrote that now i wish i had chosen one of those because of the amazingness of them. unfortunately, i'd already finished. this is what i get for not procrastinating. what were these poems you ask? well, he had one called "cock up your beaver" (i kid you not), and the equally hillarious "nine inches will please a lady". upon reading these poems, they were all laced with thinly veiled euphamisms. one of my favorites comes from "The Fornicator":
Before the congregation wide
I pass'd the muster fairly,
My handsome Betsy by my side,
We gat our ditty rarely.
My downcast eye, by chance did spy
What made my mouth to water,
Those limbs so clean, where I between,
Commenced a fornicator.
basically, he's saying that he was staring at a girl's snatch in the middle of church. i have so much more respect for this man. also, it said he had about 12 affairs, and died at 37. so that's funny.
anyways, we realized that robert burns is the baddest motherfucker ever. he's most famous for the poem "My love is like a red, red rose", which i am reviewing. however, we found a huge buttload of awesome poems he wrote that now i wish i had chosen one of those because of the amazingness of them. unfortunately, i'd already finished. this is what i get for not procrastinating. what were these poems you ask? well, he had one called "cock up your beaver" (i kid you not), and the equally hillarious "nine inches will please a lady". upon reading these poems, they were all laced with thinly veiled euphamisms. one of my favorites comes from "The Fornicator":
Before the congregation wide
I pass'd the muster fairly,
My handsome Betsy by my side,
We gat our ditty rarely.
My downcast eye, by chance did spy
What made my mouth to water,
Those limbs so clean, where I between,
Commenced a fornicator.
basically, he's saying that he was staring at a girl's snatch in the middle of church. i have so much more respect for this man. also, it said he had about 12 affairs, and died at 37. so that's funny.