December 2009
90 posts
Dear Intarwebs,
Please stop sidetracking me. I am trying to watch Star Wars, to learn some valuable tips on how to survive Hoth, since I seem to have awoken this morning stranded on the strange planet. Furthermore, it is downright inconsiderate to keep distracting a girl from her ewoks. That is all, and have a Merry Christmas with your family. Tell Mr. Gore I say hello.
Salutations,
Miss Jessyca
P.S. Original...
Well, it looks like I’ll be spending Christmas Eve and Christmas alone, and working. Plus I have no groceries, since I was planning on bringing home plenty of food from my Daddy’s house. So it looks like I’ll be spending Christmas Eve and Christmas alone, working, and starving. Man. Just what I needed right now.
I’ve seen too much settling lately…and it’s creating an unrest in my soul. Something has to be done. Something has to be said. And I’m afraid it’s going to come out in a form that can only aspire to be so eloquent as “Fuck you.”
“And the idea that ‘and’ must not begin a sentence, or even a...”
– (Kingsley Amis, The King’s English; 1997.)
Changing the Black Top to Green →
themasonsuperawesomefuntimeshow:
jilllian:
I am all about this!
“All the green roofs were planted with Sedum, a genus of leafy succulent known for its hardiness and often used as ground cover. “We planted what we knew would grow,” said Getter.
Over a two-year period, the plants on the East Lansing campus were periodically harvested. Leafy parts stored on average 168 grams of carbon per...
So, I've made a decision to quit drinking.
jilllian:
themasonsuperawesomefuntimeshow:
Or at least slow down substantially. Anybody who knows me on a personal level knows that I can take it too far, and I usually do. So to save myself the risk of losing my dearest relationships, for my health’s sake, and to a lesser extent for the sake of my bank account, I’ve decided to keep it social or not drink at all (if a really bad day comes...
“I sat in the airport and waited. You never knew about photos. You could never...”
– Charles Bukowski, Women
Well here it is.
Writers
by Jessyca Ramsey
For you and I, poetry is etched into our bones, carved deeply, often painfully, before we ever reached the full level of birthed consciousness, not that either of us remains fully conscious too routinely anyway. We pour stories out through our fingertips, drawing on an ancient energy source that pulses beneath all of our feet, like some ethereal aquifer. The day we met,...
Who wants to read some poetry?
Eh, eh?
I'm hanging out with Derek tonight.
I don’t know if we can top last week.
I’m sure as hell going to try.
