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Places to Go:
old stuff
review(coming soon...) People I Know:
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03.29.2004 7:17 p.m. I started to play a game at lunch with Eric today, we tried to figure out how famous writers would have sex based on their writing styles... *Hemingway, if he gets it up at all would be so quite it be over and done with before you noticed your pants were down...but he makes up for it orally *Steinbeck would be a lot like Hemingway, he'd make it sound better when bragging to his friends later *Tolkien would want to role play *Palahniuk would fuck you til you were sore and you'd probably feel a little dirty afterwards *Poe would want to tie you up shakespeare would be the most romantic sex ever...until you realize he was just lying to get you into bed but boy does he have rhythm *amy tan would just suck. *twain would be a gentlemen about it and make sure you got yours first. *vonnegut would be like twain, but more experimental and possibly into some role playing too *Salinger would accuse you of faking *dostoyevsky would go a little crazy in the sack, and probably give you VD *Fitzgerald would only do it if everyone else was *Lewis Caroll would make you call him daddy *Plath would fake it then hate you later *Faulkner would take his time to the point of boredom yet you would still feel the need to appreciate it afterwards. *dickens would repeat the same move so many times you'd start to fall asleep *Camus would only get it up when the mood strikes him and if he does there's no guarantee he'll finish *Kafka doesn't know what he's doing, no one's told him. *The Bronte sisters would be good, but the only men want to be around them are gay (same applies to Jane Austen) *Orwell would make fun of you a lot but that would stop him because in the end you know he loves it. ....so thats what I've done with my day...
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Song De Jour: She was born in November 1963 The day Aldous Huxley died And her mama believed That every man could be free So her mama got high, high, high And her daddy marched on Birmingham Singing mighty protest songs And he pictured all the places That he knew that she belonged But he failed and taught her young The only thing she's need to carry on He taught her how to Run baby run baby run baby run Baby run Past the arms of the familiar And their talk of better days To the comfort of the strangers Slipping out before they say so long Baby loves to run She counts out all her money In the taxi on the way to meet her plane Stares hopeful out the window At the workers fighting Through the pouring rain She's searching through the stations For an unfamiliar song And she's pictures all the places Where she knows she still belongs And she smiles the secret smile Because she knows exactly how To carry on So run baby run baby run baby run Baby run From the old familiar faces and Their old familiar ways To the comfort of the strangers Slipping out before they say So long Baby loves to run Last Five Entries:
insert semi clever joke about not being able to spell something without R U here - 08.08.2005
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