this is what clothes are for. mouths are for kissing.
"Let us cavort like the Greeks of old. (sexfully) You know the ones I mean."
Actually, "Let's not get carried away," instinctively strikes me as a psychologically promising approach. If a guy said it to me, my first thought would probably be a perfectly sensible "Why would I get carried away?" But then.... Second guessing would kick in. Am I getting carried away? Maybe I am. I really shouldn't get carried away here. And BAM. There I am suddenly carried away.
Let's not get carried away, DK.
Emerson, you must be proud of your boy.
I think only Pee-wee Herman could get away with #7.
I think Ogged has a broken heart and is desperately trying to fool himself.
#6 would get the speaker a knee in the balls.
#5 - "C'mon kids, meet Uncle Ogged!"
Clearly a she-devil, but that's not what I'm on about at the moment. I was struck by how little I, you know, wanted her.
at least I'll have my pride.
Let's begin the countdown until Ogged's transition into St/v/n D/n/B/s/t/e.
12 scares me because it's true: "Where all the anglo women at?"
There are women lifeguards, and then there are female persons standing watch over the pool.
I wouldn't say 12 to my worst enemy, _even if_ my worst enemy turned out to be St/v/n D/n/B/s/t/.
Confessing that you find Mickey Kaus amusing -- now there's a panty-dropper.
6: DK has just incited PTSD flashback seizures in my spine.
Evolution took my gills and all I got were these lousy thumbs
Google seems to indicate that, amazingly, you just made this up. If so, I suggest a t-shirt. I would buy it. Y'all need to pay for the servers somehow, right?
You thought I didn't write my own material, Ile? Honestly.
Evolution took my fur, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.
Evolution took my kidney, but I gots a teddy bear!
My heart is breaking over the mullocracy in my homeland. Wanna cuddle?
You thought I didn't write my own material, Ile?
You should hear ogged's "Arabs drive like this, but Persians drive like that" routine.
Ogged, meet the Palmer Sisters; Sisters, meet Ogged.
I'm almost as fast as Michael Phelps. Um, in the pool, I mean.
Evolution took my asexual reproduction and all I got was this lousy penis.
Have you ever heard of Unfogged.com?
Evolution took my fur, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.
"Evolution left me most of my fur and this north face top to cover it."
Evolution took Lucy and all we got was Labs.
"Evolution robbed me of the ability to photosynthesize, but in exchange I got these big blue eyes and, baby, looking at you, it was worth it."
Alternatively, the Robert Mitchum:
"Stick with me, kid, and you'll be farting through silk."
Evolution took my ancestor on the Pleistocene Savannah, and all I got was here.
"Fill in the blank. Analogies are ---- ?"
Actually, if I knew Ogged was wearing any of these on a t-shirt, it would be much more tempting to waste my incipient free time going Ogged-hunting; sifting through random 30-something Persian guys in the City could be satisfying with the payoff of walking up to him and shouting, "Banned! They are banned!".
Stick with "no more than 10% of my time, and at my convenience."
one or two sentence ways to attract like-minded people
like minded people = silence and isolation that feeds my soul
5. Tick-tock, bitch.
Is a thing of beauty. Unlikely to work, though.
Historically speaking, one- or two-sentence ways to attract the like-minded:
1. Go ahead and eat crap if you want, but what I'm making will be good because I made it!
2. Your music sounds like um, um, Coldplay; oh, wait.
3. I haven't read the Utne Reader in years.
4.
actually, nemind.
This is exhausting.
1. Some people think they can attract the like-minded with only one or two sentences. I never get along with them.
IF i can threadjack, cna i pose a question: are romantic comedies, where the scoundral turns all soft and mushy at the end and then gets the girl, enjoyed by women because its a way for them to fantasize about themself, in particular, that they could like someone who treats them as an equal, instead of the sexyman-script of the dominant guy?
Your music sounds like um, um, Coldplay
Everything sounds like Coldplay now.
the last sorority girl i chatted up said she liked travis
the last sorority girl i chatted up said she liked travis
Travis is that hot guy in her English class. You're hosed, dude.
Ogged, try "Do you like throwing things off roofs?"
Ogged, just study this and be prepared to recreate it at any time.
39: It's the need women have for men who aren't afraid to stomp on puppies when there's a need for warm food AND who can cry about it afterwards.
39: Maybe it's just me, but the jerk who turns to a prince with the love of a good woman theme in romantic comedies (or otherwise) does nothing whatsoever for me as a woman.
I liked Mostly Martha (described on the box as a romantic comedy, I swear!), which appeals to a whole separate mindset -- the sensitive, competent guy who patiently persists in his effort to get through to the hard as nails, complicated woman.
44: You're single, right?
45 is why the hard-as-nails, complicated (insane) man and the hard-as-nails, complicated (insane) woman never can quite make it work, despite the mutual attraction.
Or maybe it's that jerky males and jerky females each pray on patient, non-jerky types, and each are drawn to the romantic comedies depicting such in a favorable light.
In my desuetude I shall quote lolcats.
SB's desuetude has been greatly francophonated.
In one's desuetude it is more difficult to make puddings.
At first I read slogan #5 as a list of things to do, kind of like "cry, cry, masturbate, cry".
Anyway, ogged, you should sell t-shirts with these on them. With any luck, it will ultimately enable you to star in a youtube video lip-synching to some catchy-ass tune with all your unbearably attractive hipster co-workers!
It is less difficult to be puddings.
Pudding is the new lobster.
Lobsters, to their credit, contain less suet. But more cholesterol, I fear. And I put it to you: have you ever hypnotized a pudding? you have not. So much the worse for lobsters.
I had a boyfriend in college who hypnotized puddings.
I hypnotized your mom's pudding.
When I was a young boy, I'd follow the path down past the dunes to the sea; and there on the warm sandy beaches we'd lie, the furry old puddings and me.
The Magic Pudding is one of the most bizarre books I've ever read, all about a sentient pudding who desires more than life to be consumed at every minute of the day.
I was in a discussion in a seminar during which it was determined that the author's use of a pudding metaphor made no sense if one thinks of pudding as an American sweet but works just fine when considered as a British dish. The author is Canadian.
Sing hey hidey ho, where'd the old puddings go? I guess we know.
Puddington bears are a yummy sweet; much yummier than bears that are gummier.
Canadians are, of course, best understood as exceptionally chilly Britons. Except the Inuit. And the French. And all the others.
to be consumed at every minute of the day
I'm having great difficulty not thinking of this as some manner of plural entendre.
President Rutherford B. Hayes discovered the electron. At parties, he likened his discovery to that of tiny puddings roosting in the nooks of the Oval Office, surviving on the occasional raisin shook loose from his beard.
Experimental evidence of the Hayes Raison has yet to appear, but indirect evidence indicates its existence.
It's amazing how much supervision this blog requires.
Hayes only won that electron because operatives from his party switched the charges in a few important districts.
Ma, ma, where's my non-raisin-beard-man?
It's amazing how much supervision this blog requires.
Go put the smack down on those fuckers and their endless analogies in the Econ thread.
It is an impossibility simultaneously to observe the quantity and partisan preference of electrons in a district.
gone to the white house. um. raisin, pudding, gold foil experiment.
It might be advisable to spell "loathsome" correctly. Just a hypothesis.
I knew sprinters who wore "You don't need stamina to score" shirts, but they were after a different sort, I think.
Analysts were unable to determine precisely which constituencies voted which way in the recent electron; they blamed their problems on certain quarks in the voting machines.
I posted 76 without having read the thread.
Blind posting, electron rigging, pudding entendres-raisons! Francophone desuetude! Blog-supervision required!
See, I can do it too!
"Why is it that all the good SF is written by Brits?"
...
{awkward silence}
The hypothetical dreamgirl either:
a)commiserates on the sad state of American sci-fi compared to Harrison or Mieville
or
b)vociferously defends American SF, citing Delaney and Wolfe
or
c)mildly mentions heinlein or asimov and doesn't walk away.
Experimental evidence of the Hayes Raison has yet to appear, but indirect evidence indicates its existence.
Teams of physicists have devoted their entire careers to its discovery. It's a raison d'etre, as you might say.
many explorers of old devoted their existence to the discovery of the sun-dried fruit of being, said to bestow upon the muncher of said fruit eternal life, commonly known in those old, francophillic days as the raisins d'etre.