Lots of hammocks today on the trees outside Tripp Residence Hall, by Lake Mendota on the UW campus.
११ ऑक्टोबर, २०१६
Hammockery.
Lots of hammocks today on the trees outside Tripp Residence Hall, by Lake Mendota on the UW campus.
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Oh!
I read that as Ham-Hockery! I thought this was a southern cabbage cooking contest.
With of course, Ham Hock, Onion, and spices unmentionable.
We southerners often cook from our rockers or hammocks. For of course, very good and sufficient reasons.
I have had a lifelong theory about this, which is as follows:
Regional dialects spring from the climate. (No, not climate change stupidity)
southerners speak slow, with exaggeratedly long syllables because it's too damned hot. they walk, talk, cook and MPFFFF slowly, because it's too damned hot. (also why a southern lover is to be prized above gold or jewels.)
In Yankeeland, it's F*cking cold. People talk quickly, in clipped sentences that are abrupt and almost rude, because it's F*cking cold and they want to go inside where they can warm up! Skin temps can fall below 70 degrees and perhaps 50 when it's REALLY F*cking cold. Geez. That's rough when your MPFFFing. no wonder they are all so crabby.
Midwesterners have that nasal twang. This is due I believe to a combination of always having a cold, so sinuses are always messed up plus they are laughed at by the Yankees which makes them unhappy.
Westerners, well when you are so stoned all the time your mammy is passed out on the couch... what can I say, DUUUUDE!
So there it is, a simple explanation of American dialects.
You may thank me at your earliest opportunity.
I have said Trump is tacky several times and been criticized for it, who knows, maybe some think it is a form of elitism to call him tacky.
I love reading Camille Paglia's essays and letters, and I'd just like to quote from one last year:
"Well, my view of Trump began in the negative. When he was still relatively unknown nationally, he jackhammered a magnificent Art Deco sculpture over the main doorway of the Bonwit Teller department store on 5th Avenue. It was 1980, and he was demolishing the store to build Trump Tower. The Metropolitan Museum of Art had offered to take the sculpture, but Trump got impatient and just had it destroyed. I still remember that vividly, and I’m never going to forget it! I regard Donald Trump as an art vandal, equivalent to ISIS destroying ancient Assyrian sculptures. As a public figure, however, Trump is something of a carnival barker."
I love it: like ISIS destroying the antiquities. Such a perfect comparison.
Also, he's way overrated as a businessman.
Anarchy has set in
"The GOP tumbles toward anarchy: ‘It’s every person for himself or herself'"
except for copy editors.
Had lunch with three widow women today, all of the church lady subset. They were all disgusted with Trump, but still planned to vote for him because Hillary!
Did they ask permission of the trees?
No? Why not?
Specists!
Christy, please tell the church ladies that Trump Men apologize on his behalf, but that their clear sighted understanding, shared with others as they know to do, just may be the very thing that draws this nation back from the precipice we face.
Women aren't stupid. I asked my older sister the head of the Alter Society at a large Catholic church here in KC, who the women seemed to be supporting, it was Trump. They weren't shocked by the pussy talk.
I hadn't noticed many political signs in my section of the city until today. I was driving to deliver a bar payroll in a heavily union part of the suburbs near the Ford Plant, Trump signs on every block.
I understand why folks like to sleep off the ground, but my experience with hammocks is they are bad for my back.
HT
Where these the two 2-ton sculptures nine storied up? As much as I like Camille Paglia, it's too bad she did have the $200,000 and two month to get them down.
I prefer to mock pastrami. But to each his own.
If there is a Hillary supporter in our evangelical church I have yet to hear them. Because dead baby parts.
Somehow I got the impression that the way to spot an Armenian surname is to look for the "ian" on the end.
But last night I caught some of Poland vs. Armenia and all the Armenian guys but one had "yan" on the end.
If I can figure out that burning mystery, and somehow manage to get the theme song from Wonderfalls out of my head, it might just be a good day.
The wax lion can probably help with that, Eric.
"I read that as Ham-Hockery!"
We evacuated to Atlanta because of Matthew. Back home now. Had some delicious ham hocks at Busy Bee Cafe. Yum yum.
I read the caption and didn't see the hammocks. In Florida a "hammock" is a stand of hardwood trees in a contrasting ecosystem such as a prairie. Then I looked closely and saw the hammocks with attendant students. Two different languages between Wisconsin and Florida.
Generally, I am Pro-hammocks.
Socially Awkward Guy Who Makes No Eye Contact says:
Yesterday I was at McDonalds, sitting at my favorite table, when the Girl with Blue Hair walked right by me on her way to the bathroom. She was so close she practically brushed my elbow.
Was this a sign? Did she want me to follow her? Could it be? No? Yes? Maybe I would walk into the bathroom and see her, waiting for me.
"I see how you look at me," she would say, fingers running through her Blue Hair.
"I can tell you don't want to fuck me. You're not like the others."
"I am not like the others."
"No, you're different. I like different."
"I am very different."
"So what is it that you want to do with me?"
Summoning up more courage than I ever thought I had, I would say:
"I want to pee on you. I want you on your knees and I want to pee on you."
"That's not what I expected," she would say.
"I'm sorry, I --"
"No -- no: don't apologize. I told you I like 'different'. Tell me what you would do."
"Well, you'd be on your knees, I would pull out my dick, and I would pee on you. I think that's pretty much it."
"Could I wear sunglasses when you pee on me? I wouldn't want to get it in my eyes."
"I like sunglasses. I don't like to make eye contact. Eye contact scares me."
She started to say something else, but the spell was broken when she came out of the bathroom and walked by me again on her way to the counter.
Did I disappoint her? Was she in there, waiting for me, and I blew it?
It was a horrible night, thinking these thoughts over and over and over.
One more chance, God: please give me one more chance.
Like no one else thinks these things.
I hope the Girl with the Blue Hair is working at McDonalds today.
I am Laslo.
Althouse seems to have packed it in.
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