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Back to the hustle and bustle of the cornfields.
Love the middle photo. That's very striking.
The weather is turning to spring and all the girls are out looking for the spring fashions, wandering down the avenue, stopping at cafes for a coffee and a pastry, maybe a new book, or some antiques on Atlantic Avenue.Dunno about that. It was a whopping 23 degrees this morning and we're shooting for a high of 41I'm desperately waiting on global warming.
Dahlink, love is clearly in the air... time for that Spring Fling in the City, maybe some Bear Stearns broker, who clearly needs solace, or at least to be in the vortex...besides we need some spice here, beyond the Dalton Girls...
It's 42° in Brooklyn right now. It's going to be in the 40s all week. Not too springlike, I don't think.
Gone to tilted greenby a crooked shadow-pathOr the straight sidewalk
My horesback riding comment disappeared.I demand an apology.
As far as early spring goes, which this is, for me it's more about the amount and brightness of the light and sky and the length of the "day" than the temperature ... so long as it's at least in the 40s with an occasional spike into the '50s, AND there's no snow.Today is OK, here where I live, but I have to say that yesterday was one of the ugliest, aesthetically displeasing--speaking strictly in terms of the weather--Easter Days that I can recall in quite awhile.It may seem dumb, and it certainly is trivial, but that really bothered me.
Try a stint in Tokyo or Mexico City. It'll make you love Madison all the more deeply. My own fault-finding eye goes straight toward the trash bag. And the nose cannot be placated.
Irrelevant comment: What is it with the t-word around here? Ugh, I hate that word, and I especially hate the insouciance with which it's used around here, and pretty much invariably by men. Not that it matters what I think, or that it should, or that I'm saying people ought not use it. It doesn't and needn't, and I'm not. It's a free country and a free comment section and I'm in charge of neither.But--ugh.
Go shit in your hand and slap yourself in the face.That's better, Trooper. Thank you.
Now, where did I put that quotations book with the chapter on creative insults?
Actually, I should go dig out the copy of "The Book of Poisonous Quotes" that one of sisters-in-law gave me for Christmas 2005, about which I blogged at the time.As I wrote then about the book, which I heartily recommend: Handily enough--I do like my guilty pleasures to be well-organized!--the book is divided into sections and subsections, so that if one is particularly peeved at a specific category of people, one can quickly locate pertinent fodder for venomous contemplation.
The streetsAnd the memory of the streetsAnd the longing for the streetsEven as we walk the streetsEven as we climb the stairsPulling us back Down to the streetsEver backEver backDown stairs we comePulled downPulled back To the streets the streets the streetsNeverending vortex of intoxicationIn which we drown.
You can use ``derivative of entropy with respect to internal energy'' instead of the t-word.But it will be warmer soon.Then the h-word will come up.
Hey! I see that that post more than two comments! Jan. 19, 2006, must have been at least a pink-letter day. OK, red-letter day, since both Amba and Bill (of So Quoted) are among them, and Pastor Jeff recommended another wicked book of quotes, which I forgot to order but which I will put into my Amazon shopping cart forthwith.LOL.
Ancient insult program. It is reported to impress secretaries.$ insult 20You grim-visaged traveling bag of lousy phalarope residueYou baneful reticule of neuralgic agama guanoYou nasty clothesbasket of insanitary catfish turdYou onerous stewpan of plagued camelopard ordureYou sore silique of adulterous Shropshire expulsionYou galling dustpan of ulcerated dragon fish feculenceYou sorrowful budget [dial] of paralytic terrier urineYou vexing kilderkin of unhealthful cardinal expectorationYou unhandsome picnic basket of venenous Targhee coprolithYou defaced eggcup of nephritic bird of paradise detritusYou crushing vase of chlorotic raccoon slagYou beautiless handbag of infected wasp excretesYou distressing salver of scrofulous weakfish scrapsYou harassing frail of malarial macaque flatusYou dolorous sugar spoon of pestilential English setter flopsYou odious bushel of indecent harvest mouse excrementYou heartsickening corbeil [archit] of unclean Charolais ejectamentaYou cacophonous filing box of toxical merl odds and endsYou grisly cruet of soiled squash bug paringsYou bitter billfold of rachitic Devon ptyalismDifferent every time! It's up somewhere... hmm.. here , a unix archive, if you have a C compiler.
The Book of Poisonous Quotes, that is, and I really do recommend it.Here are some examples, in categories, that I used back then (Althouse is on a plane, right? That means this thread can be turned into a coffeehouse, right?):Music"Song is the licensed medium for bawling in public things too silly or sacred to be uttered in ordinary speech."--Oliver Herford"Too many pieces finish too long after the end."--Igor Stravinsky"Musical people are so absurdly unreasonable. They always want one to be perfectly dumb at the very moment when one is longing to be absolutely deaf."--Oscar WildeMusicals"I could eat alphabet soup and shit better lyrics!"--Johnny MercerOh! Calcutta"The trouble with nude dancing is that not everything stops when the music stops."--Robert HelpmanThese don't include some of the really deliciously mean ones in the book. I guess I was in milder mode back then.
if you have a C compilerI don't, but I'm sure my husband does. Unfortunately, he's up in air somewhere between Philly and Minneapolis, no doubt discussing headless chickens [reference to comment in Althouse's "first movie" thread]. I'll bet he'll be in no mood to indulge my foolishness by the time they get home--if they get home--tonight.***By the way, was "It is reported to impress secretaries" supposed to be another of your swipes at women? Just curious.
...Bill (of So Quoted) are among themWhoa, don't drag me into this. Though, regarding "The trouble with nude dancing" quote, obviously some will have more of an issue than others controlling momentum.
(Sorry, hit post too soon.)Among Bill's contributions to that 1/2006 thread:"If I may offer my favorite restaurant review***. For a single quote, I'd pull this one: 'Truffle oil is the ketchup of the modern foodie. I didn't make that up, but I fervently agree with it. Plus it tastes like ass.' "(***Referring to one by Poppy Z.)"What Demi Moore does is not acting." -- Helen Mirren,The Montreal GazetteThursday 27 May 1999(My tongue's sticking out at YOU, dear Bill.)
Geh cocken offen yom.Go shit in the ocean.
Quadreplegic isn't bad enough? Overkill.
It's only March. Doesn't the school year end in June?Then again, how could yesterday be Easter when we still have over a week left of March ??Everything seems to be speeded up nowadays.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.So, offline, Bill points out to me that in a post at his blog this morning--about dancing!--(before all this), he actually linked to a nude photo of Rudolf Nureyev, by Richard Avedon.OK, now I'm creeped out. By the coincidence, not by the picture of Nureyev, in which, by the way, he is standing, not dancing around.
Speaking of which, where is Titus, by the way? We might need a professional, or at least experienced, opinion.
rhhardin said... You can use ``derivative of entropy with respect to internal energy'' instead of the t-word.Not to be too pedantic, but it's the other way round: temperature is the derivative of internal energy with respect to entropy, at constant volume. Things can get messy if you're, say, cooking up some meth and get that wrong.
Correct me if I'm wrong. But, it seems there were a lot of things you didn't do in the city.A horse-carriage ride through Central Park. Times Square, Penn Station. Statten Island. The Ferry Boat etc. The East River.Maybe those things are too tourist-y.
When I have a question about physics, I always reference MC Hawking. Entropy:Defining entropy as disorder's not complete,'cause disorder as a definition doesn't cover heat.So my first definition I would now like to withdraw,and offer one that fits thermodynamics second law.First we need to understand that entropy is energy,energy that can't be used to state it more specifically.In a closed system entropy always goes up,that's the second law, now you know what's up.
Simon said... Love the middle photo. That's very striking.It is the shadow of the Ents.
Not to be too pedantic, but it's the other way round: temperature is the derivative of internal energy with respect to entropy,Oops, right. I remembered it was the opposite of what you'd expect and so reversed what seemed natural in my head.What I remember it from, when writing it down, is that it's actually a tautology, the only assumption being that two systems in thermal contact come to some equilibrium. The result, after the most remarkably mundane applicaton of freshman calculus, is temperature and entropy.
Trooper, I haven't yet received my iTunes or Amazon credits in exchange for providing you with a new meme.Damn it, man, do you think I work for free?!Sponger.
Frankly, I think you owe me extra, on account of the Red Sox thing.
Did I ever tell the story of how, the year they broke their series losing streak, the neighbors took my son during the final games because my hootin' and hollerin' was scaring him/keeping him awake?It's a true one.
I am a Sox fan Trooper and I think we can have a healthy baseball debate without all of the Red Sox bashing. Jacob Ellsbury is hot too and I would love to do Manny up the butt while pulling his hair.
Titus,You could also switch the Cubs. Wrigley borders a gay Mecca, Boys Town, in Chicago.Red Sox and White Sox suck. All Sox suck.
These days you don't need a compiler: Someone has compiled it for you and put it on the web, you frantic swamp of offensive pig mucous.
You should switch to the Mets, they are very gay friendly.Imus discusses the gay met story. May 25 2002
Last full day in Manhattan, heading back to Pennsylvania tomorrow. Tristan was sublime; Ernani was so bad we walked out after the first act.
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