On the good side, at least since all of this seems to be happening now, Moss knows he can deal with me being stressed. Everyone must love Moss.
davyd6515: Julia's boss is not allowed to yell at her, fire her or be grarlike period.
hellinda23: the catlord has decreed it!
davyd6515: Julia is my mrowlike friend and she should be worshipped.
hellinda23: Yay!
I know, I sort of brought it upon myself and all, but still. Grar.
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(5)
01:06:39 PM,
Friday 21 February 2003
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call for addresses: Kerne, Gillen, Tim, Mike, Neil and anyone else who feels so inclined (even girls). You want postcards. You love them.
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(4)
06:18:40 AM,
Wednesday 19 February 2003
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I can't even begin to tell you how romantic our time in the City of Lights has been. Moss keeps making me melt. He'll gaze lovingly into my eyes, lean in close, gently brush may hair back and whisper sweet nothings into my ear. Like, "It's horrible. The undead feed upon the living!" And if you think that's hot, you should hear him tell me about how he's a descriptive linguist.
Of course, to be fair, I'm not without my own moves. I mean, I did tell him I'd haxor into his system. "I'll violate you," I said, "in binary."
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(4)
06:11:24 AM,
Tuesday 18 February 2003
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Also, my spam gets more and more amusing. For a while it was just links to porn, then it was, "Hey check out these free site! My favorite's the first one!" Last week it was the same links with, "I've joined up to 38 free porn sites. Yeah, I've been bored. Anyway you should join these seven because they're the best out of all of them and they're free and have good content." And now, this week, it's as though someone else is forwarding it and adding they're own bit in up at the top. "Hey, have you checked this out, bro?"
Not yet, G. I've been too busy cruisin' with my posse. Yo.
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(4)
11:51:10 AM,
Saturday 15 February 2003
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When the ovens are hot, tomorrow,
Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, we'll have fun
Just eating babies, tomorrow,
Eating baby flesh will ease our sorrow, 'til there's none,
TOMORROW, TOMORROW, eat babies tomorrow
And munch all your cares away!
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11:32:20 AM,
Saturday 15 February 2003
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Remember when you were younger and you played war with a thick stack of cards? And you'd play and play and play and it never seemed to end. And sometimes you'd both end up with the same card and you'd declare a war and lay out three other cards, facedown on the table, and then you'd both turn over the last card at the same time? And Sometimes, if you were really lucky, you'd realize you'd pulled an ace! And that meant nothing could beat you. And you'd get all excited until your sibling or friend or cousin or father or mother or babysitter would say, "Eh, what do I care? It's only a couple of measly twos! And you'd feel cheated, and you'd take those twos, but the victory wouldn't seems so great, because, well, now you had twos, and twos lose; everybody knows that. But you'd keep playing all the same because it was war and you had to, and you didn't even know why. Probably it was because your mother had to pay bills or wash clothes or something (or maybe she just wanted to read for a while) and she wanted you out of her hair and quiet, but instead of telling you that, she tried to make you excited over a game that really... had no point. And wasn't even based on skill.
Somehow it's still a little appealing though, isn't it? War! You can win! Take your opponent for every last card in his possession! Or you know, at least shuffles themback and forth between you until you get bored. I didn't know what to do about the two entry. And I started thinking of cards and that's how this all came up. But I keep thinking it actually applies somehow. Like in some way, Dubya's just this misguided little kid playing War because his dad doesn't want him fucking around with the expensive power tools in the back shed. And I wonder if he'll get bored? I don't think so. Bah.
Anyway, I like This Two better. Don't you?
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(2)
03:52:44 PM,
Friday 14 February 2003
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Heart of the Blogmass commentary done! Yay! I've stayed up all night, and I may pay for this later, but ça va. I feel accomplished. Now if only the aparment would clean itself before Moss gets here...
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(2)
01:42:34 AM,
Friday 14 February 2003
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Ha! Heart of the Blogmass disc, you are so my bitch!
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10:52:37 PM,
Thursday 13 February 2003
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I saw this news report about hunting wild boars. (you can see them here) Apparently there's a guy whose job it is to drive a special tack that spits corn pellets out into the forest to attract the beasts. And all I can think is this:
All this corn I thro, I throw it all for you...
And also, that baby sangliers look like pig-chipmunk hybrids. Pigmunks!
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(1)
08:46:20 PM,
Thursday 13 February 2003
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"Three, sir."
"Three!"
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(2)
02:15:09 PM,
Thursday 13 February 2003
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"We need to find hot chocolate mix that you can make with just water," said I.
"Yes," said Rachel, "Philippa was saying the same thing the other day, but I think you can only get the kind that mixes with milk."
"That could work, though," I said, "because Alex has lait in powder."
Rachel didn't even blink. Later I asked her where I ought to save a document. She didn't know. "I'll just enregistrer it sous my documents," I said.
"Now that was some nice code switching," said Rachel. It's just that kind of day.
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(2)
09:24:14 AM,
Thursday 13 February 2003
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"Da da da da da da da dada Bandit da da da da my dog da da da da da da my dog... there are other verses"
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(4)
11:32:46 PM,
Wednesday 12 February 2003
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"Hmm... only I suppose it doesn't really count as three until we've posted something for four."
"So what are we posting for four?"
"Fuck if I know."
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11:31:23 PM,
Wednesday 12 February 2003
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Oh, Heart of the Blogmass cd, why are you so difficult to figure out?
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(11)
09:43:19 PM,
Tuesday 11 February 2003
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Discover Paris in five days or less.
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06:32:45 PM,
Tuesday 11 February 2003
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The Devil, and his dictionary, and his backbone, and his law firm, and his likeness, and ... David Hasselhoff-?.
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03:12:00 PM,
Monday 10 February 2003
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Seven days from now, on a Sunday,
It'll be so nice in gay Par-ee.
Though I've never been much into religion,
And I'm not sure about Holy Days,
I know this much, friendly reader types:
This one'll be pretty damned lovely, ta.
My story's a lot happier than Othello.
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02:58:24 PM,
Sunday 9 February 2003
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Eight, eight, I forget what eight was for
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(5)
06:20:50 PM,
Saturday 8 February 2003
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Odette, Julia Stiles, l'Etoile, Isadora Duncan, Björk, Ginger Rogers, Anna Pavlova, Little Girl, Jodie Foster.
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04:32:57 PM,
Friday 7 February 2003
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Onomasticate: v. To chew in onomatopoeia. Examples: chomp, crunch. (note: definition is based purely on personal speculation)
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02:49:40 PM,
Friday 7 February 2003
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Scary when you dream about the current global political climate. Scarier when such dreams have really bad jokes in them. Three guys were arguing about whether going to war with Iraq was a good idea. The first had just gone on at length about some point or other and the following dialogue ensued.
Guy 2: Oh, come on! Now you're just splitting hairs.
Guy 3: You know what's worse than splitting hairs?
Guys 1 and 2: No, what?
Guy 3: Splitting atoms.
And everyone laughed.
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(1)
09:49:11 AM,
Friday 7 February 2003
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3 pairs black cotton underwear (Madre, why didn't you send me underwear for Christmas?) - plain and necessary.
1 satin bodice. Laces up the back, incredibly comfortable and yummy, champagne colored - frivolous and unnecessary in an oh so necessary way, especially since Rebecca owed me 15€ and paid for said bodice in lieu of handing over cash. Mmm, bodice!
2 cups chocolat chaud (one for Rebecca, one for myself) - clearly a necessary part of my balanced diet.
1 bottle cider for work crêpe party - because at work, it appears that drinking is often necessary. I don't make the rules, I just follow them.
You know it's going to be a good day when the morning starts like this.
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09:25:18 AM,
Friday 7 February 2003
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*So take a deep breath and count back from ten and maybe you'll be alright.
*O. Henry's Tale of a Tainted Tenner.
*Stars at ten light years from Earth, and then the individual cells of an oak leaf. It's amazing what one can do with the Powers of Ten.
*Useful list of Ten Myths About Copryright, which more people ought to read.
*Ten Thousand Villages sells crafts made by people in third world countries. And that's pretty neat, really.
*Fact: if I had been a boy, I'd have been named David. And I s'pose my mother might've even said similar things to me. I mean, I did graduate from Ball State University, after all. You know they've named an alley after him in Muncie, now? Not a whole street, though, just an alley.
*Nine lists of ten reasons to believe in different aspects of Christianity. I don't think I've been saved.
*Ten Sefirot of the Kabbalah. Interesting that Kabbalah word association game chez Julia's brain might go like this: Kabbalah, Pi. Pi, Drill. Drill, Shudder.
*Paranoia strikes deep, into your life it will creep. Ten little seeds to start you off?
*Rules for a powerpoint competition between two kids with too much time on their hands. Two sets of ten slides meant to show how truth is beauty, beauty truth. I don't know how far I agree with them, but I like the game.
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(3)
10:14:44 AM,
Thursday 6 February 2003
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Improv Fairy Tale Bloglet Day!
Once upon a time in a faraway land, there lived an elf princess named Undici. Undici was as lonely as she was beautiful, which is to say, very, very lonely. She kept eleven elephants as pets, but though elephants are large and grey and dignified, and though it is true that they never forget a single thing, they aren't very talkative. Or cuddly. Undici had no family. Undici had no friends. Undici was a sad elf princess.
Then, one fine Spring day, Undici was walking in the woods all by herself (the elephants preferred to remain in the open meadow), when she met Elleve Tizenegy, a good nature spirit. Elleve Tizenegy was moved by Undici's sadness and wished to help her regain good cheer. "Do not be sad, elf maiden," said Elleve Tizenegy. Its voice was melodic and low and neither male nor female. It was one of the most beautiful things that the elf princess, Undici had ever heard. "I offer you these succulent juuichi berries, for one so beautiful as you should not be sad." And in the shrubbery next to Undici there was a warm rush and a sparkle, and suddenly plump, red berries shone there, waiting to be eaten. Undici reached out a slender elf hand, plucked a berry from the bush, and brought it to her soft elf lips. It was the sweetest, juiciest, most wonderful thing she had ever tasted. Undici felt as though she was eating pure, golden light. It was beautiful and amazing, but still Undici was sad.
Elleve Tizenegy saw that the elf princess still had sadness in her eyes and it wept for this.
The sound of Elleve Tizegeny weeping was something like a rush of water in a stream and the smallest, saddest tinkle of chimes in an endless empty sky. Undici could not hear this and remain unmoved. "Please!" she cried in her little elf voice. "Please don't be sad! It isn't your fault. The berries are wonderful!"
Elleve Tizenegy sighed softly, and the air stirred and rustled. "Tell me, child," it said in its clear, woodwind voice, "what is wrong? And how might I right it?"
Undici dropped her eyes to the ground and idly kicked at fallen leaves. "Oh, it is a sad tale, indeed! For when I was only a babe, the evil sorceress, Elva Yksitoista, jealous of my mother, and wanting my father for herself, cursed us all to eternal separation. She was certain to win my father's affections by force, you see, but her evil plan backfired. My father would not love her. He begged for our reunion, and refused to comply with Elva Yksitoista's wishes. But, lo, she would not undo her spell, and so I have wandered, these seventeen years, alone and untouched. Safe from harm, but doomed to eternal loneliness of a most grievous and acute nature. And so, you must see, this is why my heart remains heavy with sorrow, for berries of light and beauty are all well and good, but they are no substitute for a family."
There was a thick silence in the air for several seconds after this proclamation. It was a thinking silence, full of expectation. The air pulsed and rippled, and Undici knew that Elleve Tizenegy would soon speak. "It is a very sad tale, indeed," said the nature spirit. "I vow, however, it does seem, in a way, most fortunate!" Undici was confused, but the diaphanous mass that was Elleve Tizenegy did not seem to be finished, and so the elf princess waited quietly. "I have not always been formless," said the spirit. "Once I was, too, a beautiful maid. I was happy in my maidenhood, and very much in love with a young Lord Onze. We spent many days together in harmony, planning for our bright future, when we imagined we might marry and live high in the treetops with a brood of spritely offspring. Oh, but then I ran afoul of the very same sorceress, that Elva Yksitoista of the dark eyes and darker soul. When she could not win the affection of my Lord Onze, she turned him into a spider monkey, chittering, and unable to recall the life he once led. It broke my heart, but this wasn't the end of Elva Yksitoista's vengeance. She stole my corporeal form and hid it away in a cave by the Saltblood Sea. It calls to me, waiting to be rescued, but yet I cannot retrieve it alone, for I have no way to take it from the cave, being physically... well... not really existent. And apart from that, I am unable to even enter the cave in my weakened state, for the sorceress has warded it against me."
There was a pause then, and Undici, caught up in the story, almost forgot her own sorrow (but not quite). "Oh, but your tale is as full of woe as my own! Surely, somehow these injustices must be rectified! Is there any way?" Undici was pacing the forest floor now, and the air was warming and thickening and beginning to glow.
"There is little hope, my child. Little hope to change things," said Elleve Tizenegy.
"Oh!" cried Undici, her heart bleeding. "Oh, but it's just not right!"
"Little hope, I said," came the melodious spirit voice. And then, with more strength, "Little hope, but hope all the same." And with that, there was a rush and a flutter and the air skipped and sparkled. From behind a tree, there appeared a spider monkey, short and spindly and comical. "Lord Onze will accompany us. He is small and nimble, and though he does not remember what we once meant to each other, he is loyal, and not completely without wits. He can scout for us. Our quest will be long and dangerous, but we mayhave much to gain if we are successful. So, my maiden elf, will you join forces with me?"
Undici fairly trembled with excitement. The first rays of hope shone bright in her heart and radiated out in all directions. Her entire life she had been lonely, and now it all might change! She led Elleve Tizenegy and Lord Onze, the spider monkey, to the meadow, and she called upon her favorite of the eleven elephants, a stately grey lady called Shi-yi. And then the elf princess collected some food, and her father's old sword, and a pretty red stone that she kept for luck. And preparing a knapsack, she then climbed upon Shi-yi's broad grey back, and the four unlikely companions set off.
What happened in the weeks and months that followed, you have probably already heard of. The stories of adventures and narrow escapes, of heroic rescues and reunited loves have been told far and wide for generations by many a wandering bard. They are good stories to listen to by a fireside on a chilly Winter's night, to be sure, but it is enough for today, to say that all of our heroes found themselves with happy hearts in the end, and that unfortunate beginnings and unlikely events do not always spell unending torment and disaster. Oh, but perhaps, best of all is this: sometimes, a great deal f the time, in fact, a little hope is all a story needs in order to embark on the journey to a happy ending.
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(7)
06:45:15 PM,
Wednesday 5 February 2003
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Mr Brain’s Faggots have been sold in the UK for over 100 years.
So wrong on so many levels.
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(4)
11:23:13 PM,
Tuesday 4 February 2003
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From Julia's glossary of typos that have taken on lives of their own:
Entymology:
1. The scientific study of insectoid languages.
2. The linguistic history of names for beetles.
Alternate suggestion: Entenmannology:
1. The scientific study of mass market coffee cake, inclusive of extensive taste tests.
2. The history and origins of mass market coffee cake.
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(5)
11:07:35 PM,
Tuesday 4 February 2003
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Oh, yes: if you don't have it and are interested, please feel free to add me to your AIM buddy list and talk to me whenever you'd like!
screen name=hellinda23
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08:27:15 PM,
Tuesday 4 February 2003
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Zwölf! Zwölfth Night by Zwïlliam Zhäkespeare?
Interesting, though, that we seem to take twelve from one source and dozen from another.
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(4)
07:40:00 PM,
Tuesday 4 February 2003
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"Blog-a-let? What a strange word," said Rachel.
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(1)
01:48:55 PM,
Tuesday 4 February 2003
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Combat Alfalfa certainly would make a good name for a rock band.
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10:21:40 AM,
Monday 3 February 2003
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Also, perhaps it will teach me to edit for typos. No guarantees, but still, we can hope, right?
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07:52:59 AM,
Monday 3 February 2003
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The bloglet makes me wish I was more apt to be witty. It really does.
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(9)
07:51:52 AM,
Monday 3 February 2003
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The Alamo: Thirteen Days to Glory. (Made for tv, 1987)
Not to be confused with Ballata per un pistolero, AKA Ballad of a Gunman, AKA Ringo, Pray to Your God and Die. (Italian, 1967)
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(2)
04:00:48 AM,
Monday 3 February 2003
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Kick Ass!
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(10)
03:39:35 AM,
Monday 3 February 2003
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Second test. --The Mgt.
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(4)
03:37:01 AM,
Monday 3 February 2003
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This is a test. --The Mgt.
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03:35:47 AM,
Monday 3 February 2003
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site & script courtesy of Moss