I am certain that when I die I will become dirt. It would be nice to consider that upon my death golden open arms will greet me, enfolding me into them like a lost child finally returned home, but that’s not how I think. Never has been. It is completely incomprehensible for me to consider that once my life is over I will hang out watching the goings on down at earth while white silk draped, halo wearing, beings circle my head before diving down to intervene in someone or another’s life.
But, I can see the appeal.
And I am relatively certain I won’t burn in eternal damnation, either. Although that option is better suited to my personality and preferential if in fact my theory fails.
What motivates me is here and now...in what I intend as a reciprocal exchange.
This reminds me to ask myself “why am I even here?” I suppose one purpose is to procreate, to replenish human stock while in turn passing on my unique, somewhat maladaptive, genetic map to ensure the future of our type. But, at our current population rate, I do not see human extinction as a concern (that is not to say we won’t run out of natural resources thereby resulting in human extinction through overpopulation). So, as many population experts suggest, I will only replace myself. Although, it was never something I gave much thought.
So, why then? I have no other and a million ideas.
And, I do have considerations beyond the here and now; I get a kick out of the prospect that my progeny might proffer our future world. That, and who will take care of me when I can no longer find my ass?
I hope that I am doing a good job, that all my experience, everything that I have to give, and all that I create proves worthy beyond my own value. I want there to be some “take-away” meaning from how I live. And when I die the only “place” I want to spend eternity is ardently recalled in the generous conversation of my family and friends.
p.s. prosperous just like him.
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I would like to credit the photographer and thank her for sharing her work.
Your words are what give value to this space.
Never do that again.
Yes, I am aware.
Art by: Toujours
No Contest
even if no one gets me, if i'm the only one laughing at my jokes, i won't hide myself away from life. it's uncertain and it's dirty and it's fucking exciting, and i want to be a part of all of it.
it's too good to waste in hiding.
toujours
February, 21, 2009 1:27 AM
it's too good to waste in hiding.
toujours
February, 21, 2009 1:27 AM
heart full
Today on my way home from class, I stopped off at the petrol station for some petrol. I paid on my card which wasn’t a lot, and then as I was getting into my car, I saw an old man walking past the building. He had a red and green stripy jumper which was frayed at the ends. He was also wearing some jeans that were dirty and had holes all over.
I sat there and became intrigued by him because I didn’t know what he was doing, so as I sat there and watched him, he continued doing what he set out to do.
He walked past the trash cans and first picked out a cup with some drink still in it (one of the cups that you get from burger king that has coke in it). He then walked over to the next trash can and pulled out the end of a half eaten sandwich. In my shock horror, he ate it and then went to sit on the wall to drink the drink he had found.
I felt sad, I wanted to give him my last $4 that I had but I was told when I was younger that you should never give people money, you should give them something they need or can use because that way, if they had an addiction, they would not be able to use the money for their addiction. So I went into the shop and bought a chicken sandwich from their deli counter and then walked out of the building.
The guy was still sat at the wall drinking his drink so I walked up to him and asked him if he would like this sandwich. He thanked me and said that he was hungry.
I should of felt good after that, doing something for someone else but all I could think of is where his next meal will come from or where in fact he will sleep tonight.
Fimble Star
September 30, 2008 8:08 PM
(Tonight, although I am cold and my feet are sore, my belly is full.)
I sat there and became intrigued by him because I didn’t know what he was doing, so as I sat there and watched him, he continued doing what he set out to do.
He walked past the trash cans and first picked out a cup with some drink still in it (one of the cups that you get from burger king that has coke in it). He then walked over to the next trash can and pulled out the end of a half eaten sandwich. In my shock horror, he ate it and then went to sit on the wall to drink the drink he had found.
I felt sad, I wanted to give him my last $4 that I had but I was told when I was younger that you should never give people money, you should give them something they need or can use because that way, if they had an addiction, they would not be able to use the money for their addiction. So I went into the shop and bought a chicken sandwich from their deli counter and then walked out of the building.
The guy was still sat at the wall drinking his drink so I walked up to him and asked him if he would like this sandwich. He thanked me and said that he was hungry.
I should of felt good after that, doing something for someone else but all I could think of is where his next meal will come from or where in fact he will sleep tonight.
Fimble Star
September 30, 2008 8:08 PM
(Tonight, although I am cold and my feet are sore, my belly is full.)
It helped.
Jennicula,
Thank you for sharing your story. Although it only appeared briefly, I was lucky enough to have caught it.
Once upon a time, for me, that was the best part of this place...having my words related back to me from another's perspective.
And it never mattered to me who said it, just that it meant something to the writer.
Thank you for sharing your story. Although it only appeared briefly, I was lucky enough to have caught it.
Once upon a time, for me, that was the best part of this place...having my words related back to me from another's perspective.
And it never mattered to me who said it, just that it meant something to the writer.
Blog header image by: Anima
I would like to credit the photographer and thank her for sharing her work.
something
Don't let anyone tell you how to live your life. Hold your head up high and be proud of who you are. If you've had a shitty day and you feel like people just don't want you to be happy, and when you find yourself struggling to make it through the day, just keep on believing and keep the faith. Also, from personal experience, don't push people away. When they say they want to help and that they are there for you, let them in. Believe me, I know how fucking scary that thought is, but don't shut others out.
paperheartxx
September 22, 2008 11:07 PM
paperheartxx
September 22, 2008 11:07 PM
Retro-spectacled
Sometimes, when you look back on stuff in your life, you know, the crap that makes you shake your head and say, "Holy shit, what the Hell was I thinking?" it's part of what makes you - you.
I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. I have made small mistakes and really big, fucking scary mistakes. Would I change those mistakes and blunders?
No. Wanna know why?
Because they make me - me. They help make up the person that I am, what I've learned the hard way. Hopefully I've learned from my mistakes and have become a better person for it. And, hopefully I don't repeat those same mistakes. Although, sometimes I repeat variations of certain ones, but I'm working on that. :)
Jennicula
June 11, 2008 11:19 AM
I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. I have made small mistakes and really big, fucking scary mistakes. Would I change those mistakes and blunders?
No. Wanna know why?
Because they make me - me. They help make up the person that I am, what I've learned the hard way. Hopefully I've learned from my mistakes and have become a better person for it. And, hopefully I don't repeat those same mistakes. Although, sometimes I repeat variations of certain ones, but I'm working on that. :)
Jennicula
June 11, 2008 11:19 AM
aloft
Blazing against the sun
like locusts,
samaras swarm the sky
and skitter to an earthly end,
dry
like clever words.
I want to make them fly up,
flip heaven upside down
and dance across the top of hell
and sing your thoughts
to the sound of thunder
that you love so well,
rip open the littered sky
and bathe in the light
or draw across the firmament
the blanket of the night.
In only a day they have
covered the ground,
their brief flight
yielding nothing permanent
on infertile land,
a fleeting moment of swarming glory
that calls to mind our own
short story:
Diamonds and petals,
the loom and the light,
the inkdark moon, foxfire marsh,
an open, waiting hand.
Clever winged seeds
of childhood reminiscent--
and like the idiot grown-up heart,
as stubbornly indehiscent.
Weaver Girl
May 26, 2008 11:27 PM
like locusts,
samaras swarm the sky
and skitter to an earthly end,
dry
like clever words.
I want to make them fly up,
flip heaven upside down
and dance across the top of hell
and sing your thoughts
to the sound of thunder
that you love so well,
rip open the littered sky
and bathe in the light
or draw across the firmament
the blanket of the night.
In only a day they have
covered the ground,
their brief flight
yielding nothing permanent
on infertile land,
a fleeting moment of swarming glory
that calls to mind our own
short story:
Diamonds and petals,
the loom and the light,
the inkdark moon, foxfire marsh,
an open, waiting hand.
Clever winged seeds
of childhood reminiscent--
and like the idiot grown-up heart,
as stubbornly indehiscent.
Weaver Girl
May 26, 2008 11:27 PM
Electric Blue
…today I saw a ulysses butterfly it was in our yard and settled to feed on our hibiscus. They really are fantastically beautiful things, the electric blue is amazing, however as they sit with their wings closed they are rather nondescript and dull. Sometimes people are like that, from the outside they seem unappealing but within there hides an amazing beauty for those lucky enough to see it. I hope you appreciate beauty in all things, and look for it perhaps where others miss it.
ergoproxy
April 29, 2008 4:45 AM
ergoproxy
April 29, 2008 4:45 AM
LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL.
I read your post again and suddenly without warning memories of construction paper filled my head. I remembered all the lop-sided flowers my girls made when they were young. Bright blue, yellow and pink flowers that were cut out with blunt end scissors would fill the windows to decorate for Easter. An occasional bunny was attempted but those usually ended up looking like creatures from a horror movie. Flowers were so much easier. I can close my eyes and hear the paper being cut into petals. I can smell the Elmer’s glue squirted on in huge blobs to attach each misshapen petal to form the flowers. We had a huge arts and crafts box full of wonderful items just waiting for their imaginations to turn into something wonderful. In my mind I see my daughters, as they once were, small, blond little girls sitting on the floor surrounded by scraps of paper and other art supplies. They would create their masterpieces then proudly show each other. Oh and Lord the messes that would ensue if the glitter made an appearance. Now, the box is forgotten. I’m not really sure where it even is anymore. The few flowers so lovingly created that survived are faded and dusty and high on a shelf they sit. Time marches on, so many things get left behind.
Today was the first Easter I spent alone. I don’t think it really upset me until I remembered the construction paper flowers. Of course I understand that my daughters are growing up and have lives of their own. But understanding doesn’t make it any easier to accept. I miss my little girls in their frilly Easter dresses. I miss the laughter that filled the house when they found what the Easter Bunny left for them. And I miss making the damn flowers.
Elena
March 24, 2008 3:57 AM
Today was the first Easter I spent alone. I don’t think it really upset me until I remembered the construction paper flowers. Of course I understand that my daughters are growing up and have lives of their own. But understanding doesn’t make it any easier to accept. I miss my little girls in their frilly Easter dresses. I miss the laughter that filled the house when they found what the Easter Bunny left for them. And I miss making the damn flowers.
Elena
March 24, 2008 3:57 AM
From the corner.
I wonder if you noticed
all our friends playing
Some had never tried before
and the result was amazing.
Poems from the corner
from the left and right
We did our best to keep them flowing
Late into this night.
If nothing else was accomplished
I hope we made someone see
How truly beautiful and amazing
a poem can be.
Sdock10
March 13, 2008 11:36 PM
all our friends playing
Some had never tried before
and the result was amazing.
Poems from the corner
from the left and right
We did our best to keep them flowing
Late into this night.
If nothing else was accomplished
I hope we made someone see
How truly beautiful and amazing
a poem can be.
Sdock10
March 13, 2008 11:36 PM
Thank You. Truly.
"This little world has grown around us, out of nothing, and it is a remarkable thing. Even the dark and dirty parts, the violent parts. Humanity will not thrive without passion."
Redrum
March 1, 2008 3:13 AM
Redrum
March 1, 2008 3:13 AM
Uncondensed
Your words are what give value to this space.
Never do that again.
Yes, I am aware.
Character Advocacy.
"Don't ever pretend to be something you're not. You are who you are, and no one can change that. The people who don't like the real you are just gonna have to suck it. Don't take shit from anyone. Don't crumble. Throw a few birds, and walk on.
I'm still trying to do this, so maybe we can work on it together."
mustardisbetter
January 16, 2008 4:48 PM
I'm still trying to do this, so maybe we can work on it together."
mustardisbetter
January 16, 2008 4:48 PM
Art by: Toujours
“I decided to stop pitying myself. Other than my eye, two things aren't paralyzed, my imagination and my memory.”
Jean-Dominique Bauby
Jean-Dominique Bauby
4,742 comments:
«Oldest ‹Older 201 – 400 of 4742 Newer› Newest»why should we ignore it when people are being abused?
10.21 He is lovely like that :)
So, let's see. We've got a few options here:
Gerard is really not Mayo and could care less about some fake blogger or the people being played by the fake blogger. Asshole.
Gerard really is Mayo but denied this place on public twitter where he knew his reply would be seen by lots of people, including people that would come in and stir shit, and he could care less. Asshole.
Gerard has known about this place all along, is not Mayo, but doesn't want to stop it because he gets off on the drama and the bitch fighting. Asshole.
Mayonaise didn't mean to start a whole blog in response to Loveman (a blog completely written about Gerard Way). Total case of mistaken identity. He really doesn't know who Gerard Way is, but doesn't care enough to reveal his identity or to squash the bitch fighting. Asshole.
Bloggers (like myself) come in here because they can't stop reading or commenting to point out the "obvious" to the other bloggers who so "obviously" need help to see the "truth". Asshole.
Yep, I'm an asshole. He's an asshole. You're an asshole. She's an asshole. We're all assholes.
(Great song idea, I think)
Just a great big group (or bag) of assholes (fried or not)! No wonder we like shit so much!
Obviously people shouldn't be abused. But unless Mayo will stop anon comments they will continue. Then the only abuse would come from names who could be banned if he saw fit. Then it would stop imo, but other than that there's no way I can see to stop the abuse from either side, it's just a viscious circle.
Great song idea, anon, but though you may be, I, am not an asshole. I read Mayo's posts. I like them. I don't care who he is. He/she is probably too pissed off and way past caring about the arguing by now.
Dennis Leary thought so too 10:29...
Turning off the anon comments won't stop the assholes! They don't just come in black, they come in blue too!
I can become a blue asshole if you wish. Wouldn't change a thing. I'd still be an asshole and Mayo would still be an asshole and this blog would still be full of assholes!
A blue asshole. That's novel.
Mayo is John Edward.
Not to be confused with that other asshole, John Edwards.
Lmao 10.40. Nice.
Did you not read what I wrote 10.38? If only blues can post the ones causing trouble can be banned, right? Problem solved. Except that would probably cut out two thirds of Mayo's posters.
You act like you have to walk across broken glass and jump through flaming hoops to get a blue name. It's all too easy for black to become blue, now if only congressional approvals were this easy.
I think we should have black-out night at Mayo's and we can all gather and play an awesome game of Mistaken Identity.
Frank Lero, you're not ivited.
I left out the letter "n" on purpose.
Sounds like fun 10:48.
Of course it's easy to get a blue name. But on the flipside if Mayo was so bothered he could just delete the comments. Either way, I'm gonna stop talking about it now. I wish people would stop being hateful, it all goes round in circles.
10.48 I was thinking that the other day. Like, secrets night or something. Play a game. Keep it fun, if possible.
10:23 It was SS who was talking about lizards but it was Frank who then named the lizard Alfred.
Mood lightener? Flicking through MTV. I swear Lady gaga sang "I wanna take a ride on your disco stick".
That's a new one.
Mya, you're an assbag. You said yourself that the only reason you did what you did to her was because you were "mad". "CUNT unemployment line" does not sound like someone who was trying to "do what was right".... In your apology you said you knew it was wrong. And you also said that Karma came and bit you in the ass.
Now something crawled up that same ass of yours and died and you're changing your story.
But the fact is that you are an assbag and yes you lied.
And you can make all the accusations you want about me being Kapu. They're all wrong but if it makes you feel better to think that then go ahead, no skin off my nose. You got caught anoning so even just assuming that I'm someone I'm not and accusing me makes you look that much worse.
Oh, but before I go let me do what Mya always does.
Yes I agree with you, you are so right!
Oh I agree too! I'm a different anon from the other one that agrees with me, I mean her....
delete
Oops! I agree too, you are so great, don't listen to anyone who says you were wrong!
Me too! UR so wonderful I agree
delete
I agree too, they SUCK, you are right and they are wrong forever and ever!!!!
There, that should do it.
at least mya did the right thing by contacting person accused of sexual assault.
deal with it.
Okay anon, I have to admit the back and forth with yourself was humorous, but is it really going to change anything?
so that shit amuses you, wish? people being ridiculed. speaks volumes about you then.
I find it funny that anon would bother commenting to themselves to make a point. that's what I found funny, thank you very much.
chicken shit
People being ridiculed is never funny, whoever they are. I don't go for that shit. Never have, never will.
Chicken shit? Who, may I ask, are you addressing? before I reply to that.
ok, let me see if i've got this.
if someone abuses someone it can be set aside as long as it is done in a humorous manner and you even go as far as to acknowledge the humor you get from it.
okaaayyyy.
Fair enough. That's what I thought, lol.
So now you post just as I do...hang on.
No, abuse is not okay if done in a humorous way. What I said was that I found the fact that the anon (was it you?) would bother to post that many times to themselves, to prove a point. That they would take time out of their lives to do something so silly. That's what was funny to me. That clear enough, or do you want to keep missing the point in order to try and make me look bad? I'm not fussed, I have a clear conscience.
Why are people so quick to jump to conclusions? At least ask what a person means before attacking them for it, will you? Misunderstandings are not an uncommon thing in text. But don't worry anon, I don't often carry grudges and I don't know who you are anyway. I'll be back when there are less hostile people around. Or y'know, just later.
Shouldn't that be humourous, Wish?
Oh, we're going on about my spelling again? I already explained that one, anon. Read back and refresh yourself. Oh no, wait, if you're bringing it up then you already know. I've openly said I'm English, I have nothing to gain from spelling things either way that I do. What do you have to gain from bringing it up?
ok, let me see if i've got this.
if someone abuses someone it can be set aside as long as it is done in a humorous manner and you even go as far as to acknowledge the humor you get from it.
okaaayyyy.
Thats right!!! Get over it! If you do a bunch of over the top off the wall shit...some one is going to find it funny...and probably call you on it!!!
You consider a few rough words on a blog abuse? LMAO...You don't have a clue what real abuse is.
Thicken up that skin a bit...lil buckeroo.
Other anon who seems trying to prove a non-existent point about my spelling, I'll take your non answer as 'nothing'. Please give it up, surely it must be boring you. You'll not find whatever 'dirt' you're looking for, with me, and I'm not in the habit of ignoring people so pretty soon I shall be bored with it also.
at least mya did the right thing by contacting person accused of sexual assault.
deal with it.
I wonder if mya would contact the person accused of sexual assault if it had been someone she knew or a member of her family. She did it because of she didn't like Kapunua.
Plain and simple/
regardless of motive it was still the right thing to do though.
Yeah, now he can keep doing what he is doing to others.
I'm glad you are on the side of perverts. They are people too.
innocent until proven guilty. well that's how it is in most countries.
how are you so certain he is a pervert?
innocent until proven guilty. well that's how it is in most countries.
Yeah, just like OJ
how are you so certain he is a pervert?
August 29, 2009 4:17 PM
How are you so certain he is not? That's why people get away with doing shit like that. If someone speaks against people like that, they have people like you asking for proof.
scary gullible fuckers.
well i guess i would call a dirty old boss a pervert if he touched me in a sexual way.Or talked to me in a sexual way. Do you think that is okay for a boss to do?
If someone speaks against people like that, they have people like you asking for proof.
Fucking hell!
I am done with this conversation.
*am rendered speechless*
I bet Mya wouldn't try to "protect" the accused if it had happened to her.
*am rendered speechless
Glad to be of service.
Four years ago today:
From ground to rooftops in under three minutes.
~~~the city of Chalmette Louisiana (St. Bernard Parish)~~~
Chalmette = 100 percent destroyed when their levee broke
Ground Zero:
~~~Slidell Louisiana (St. Tammany Parish)~~~
New Orleans ~ 80 percent submerged:
~~~Michael Benedetto
Down the Drain
Directed by Vincent M Biscione~~~
Deaths (direct and indirect: 1,833 total; 1,577 in Louisiana, 238 in Mississippi, 14 in Florida, two in Georgia, two in Alabama
~~~Deaths: approximately 25,000 animals~~~
:(
Winds: Maximum winds extended to a 25-30 mile radius; hurricane force winds extended 75 miles east of the center (on August 29)
Storm Surge
Western Mississippi: 24-28 feet in a 20-mile wide swath centered on St. Louis Bay Eastern Mississippi: 17-22 feet
Louisiana St. Tammany Parish from Slidell to Mandeville (northeast shore of Lake Pontchartrain: 12-16 feet East New Orleans, St. Bernard Parish, Plaquemines Parish: 15-19 feet West New Orleans: 10-14 feet Western shore of Lake Pontchartrain: 5-10 feet
Alabama Western Alabama coast (including Dauphin Island): 10-15 feet Eastern Alabama coast: up to 10 feet Mobile Bay: 8-12 feet
Tornadoes: 43 total; one in Florida, 20 in Georgia, 11 in Alabama, 11 in Mississippi
Evacuees: 1.2 million people in northern Gulf coast from Louisiana to Alabama were under evacuation order
~~~Katrina~~~
Thank you to all who helped and those who continue to help.
Hugs and Love,
~Namaste~
6/Wendy
reciprocal exchange?
Some of us have given you our thoughts, Mr Mayonaise. We've reciprocated. Will you do the same for us? Afteral, it's not reciprocation if you give first. Though you did not say 'mutual reciprocal exchange', I am aware.
That really wasn't meant to sound that way, but I can't think how else to word it. "Mind, meet Gutter. You two will get along just fine."
good morning!!
hope everyone is having a lovely day
we are moving the chicks to the outside pen today so they can explore grass, pics to follow soon
Anonymous said...
If someone speaks against people like that, they have people like you asking for proof.
August 29, 2009 4:25 PM
L O fucking L
unfuckingbelievable
Fucking hell!
I am done with this conversation.
*am rendered speechless*
August 29, 2009 4:29 PM
I know. That comment @ 4:25 is proof of their mentality. The mentality, emotional maturity & attitude that the in blues have been dealing with here *** for ever.
*am rendered speechless at their naivete, idiocy and blind worship with you*
Anonymous said...
reciprocal exchange
5:50
All you calling for that premium. Due already?
I hope Mayo's not shocked by the costs. ;)
So, um, hopefully part of reciprocal exchange is the mutual pointing and laughing at the newly released Twilight-inspired dildo, The Vamp, over at Tantusinc.com
I shit you not, boys and girls.
It retains hot and cold tempuratures, and they suggest you "throw it in the fridge for that authentic experience"
And it SPARKLES. God save us all, this hunk of silicone sparkles like a thousand tiny diamonds are embedded in it's shaft.
D:
Amy,
What?! Ew, and just creepy.
hi amy and BC
amy that is disturbing, very disturbing
necrophiliac sex toy. huh. that must have been an interesting brain-storming session.
HI TJ
I just wonder exactly who they see their market as, it's a book series aimed at teen girls, I don't think the "toy" is really appropriate
no, it isn't, but it is amusing to see how far the marketing dept will go.
how are you doing? has it been a good weekend so far?
I think they'll go as far as possible! lol
they should have done Star Wars ones
the mind boggles!!
weekend has been good, it's very hot though
you?
lol the mind boggles indeed!
we've been a bit hot here, too, though nothing out of the ordinary for the tail end of summer. i'm doing okay, was inexplicably upbeat at work today and that chased away most of the doldrums.
Good Night
it's unseasonably warm here, there are high fire danger warnings out as it's drying everything out so much, I spent yesterday lazing about under a tree in a bikini, it's like we skipped straight into summer
Well, this IS a sex toy company. And apparently, the majority of Twilight fans are turning out to be women, like 30+ year old women.
So, if the market is there, these guys are just being smart and jumping on it, pardon the pun.
Although I still don't get the praise. It was a poorly written book, and a steamer of a movie. I kept pausing it to see what was on TV.
oh the pun, Amy the PUN!!!!!!!
lol
TJ good you had an upbeat day too, makes the time pass more nicely
Goodnight anon.
Sorry I took off. Hey there tj, amykins, and ergo.
I have just done a blog of the Ray's day at the dam yesterday if you'd like a look-see
I know Ergo, I know!! I didn't want to, but what's done is done!
Hallo BC, and Teej! Anyone else hanging around?
*peers down the dark hall*
RANDOM FACT
The Asian giant hornet, Vespa mandarinia, also known as the Japanese hornet and known colloquially as the yak-killer hornet,[citation needed] is the world's largest hornet, native to temperate and tropical Eastern Asia. Its body length is approximately 50 mm (2 in), with a wingspan of about 76 mm (3 in).[1] Queens may reach a length of 55 mm (2.2 in).[2] In Japan, the Japanese hornet is referred to as the sparrow bee (雀蜂, suzumebachi?) alluding to its size or its coloration.
The head of the hornet is orange and quite wide in comparison to other hornet species. The compound eyes and ocelli are dark brown, and the antennae are dark brown with orange scapes. The clypeus (the shield-like plate on the front of the head) is orange and coarsely punctured; the posterior side of the clypeus has narrow, rounded lobes. The mandible is large and orange with a black tooth (inner biting surface).
The thorax and propodeum (the segment which forms the posterior part of the thorax) of the Asian giant hornet has a distinctive golden tint and a large scutellum (a shield-like scale on the thorax) that has a deeply-impressed medial line; the postscutellum (the plate behind the scutellum) bulges and overhangs the propodeum. The hornet's forelegs are orange with dark brown tarsi (the distal—furthest down—part of the leg); the midlegs and hindlegs are dark brown. Wings are a dark brownish-gray. The tegulae are brown.
The gaster (the portion of the abdomen behind the thorax–abdomen connection) is dark brown with a white, powdery covering; with narrow yellow bands at the posterior margins of the tergite, the sixth segment is entirely yellow. It is similar in appearance to the established European hornet, Vespa crabro.
It can be found in Primorsky Krai, Korea, China, Taiwan (where it is called 虎é 蜂; "tiger head bee"), Indochina, Nepal, India, and Sri Lanka, but is most common in mountainous areas of Japan.
The stinger of the Asian giant hornet is about 6 mm (¼ in) in length,[1] and injects an especially potent venom that contains, like many bee and wasp venoms, a cytolytic peptide (specifically, a mastoparan) that can damage tissue by stimulating phospholipase action,[3] in addition to its own intrinsic phospholipase.[4] Masato Ono, an entomologist at Tamagawa University near Tokyo, described the sensation as feeling "like a hot nail being driven into [his] leg."[1]
An allergic human stung by the giant hornet may die from an allergic reaction to the venom, but the venom contains a neurotoxin called mandaratoxin[5] which can be lethal even to people who are not allergic if the dose is sufficient.
A few interesting notes on Vespa mandarinia's venom and stinger:
* The venom contains at least eight distinct chemicals, some of which damage tissue, some of which cause pain, and at least one which has an odor that attracts more hornets to the victim.
i will have to look first thing tomorrow, ergo -- i am all of a sudden dead dog tired.
good night all, sweet dreams ergo, amyranth and bc.
i think i shall go walk that road our anon left for us, right on into dreamland. :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fTrSOFyfxs
# The venom contains 5% acetylcholine, a greater concentration than is present in bee or other wasp venoms. Acetylcholine stimulates the pain nerve fibers, intensifying the pain of the sting.
# Vespa mandarinia uses its large crushing mandibles, rather than its sting, to kill prey.[citation needed]
# The venom of the Asian giant hornet is more toxic than that of most other bees or wasps, giving this species one of the greatest lethal capacities per colony.
# The enzyme in the venom is so strong that it can dissolve human tissue. On some occasions, the sting may be compared to the effects of a spider bite.
# Like all hornets, V. mandarinia has a barbless stinger, allowing it to sting repeatedly.
The Asian giant hornet is a relentless hunter that preys on other large insects such as bees, other hornet species, and mantises.
An Asian giant hornet feeding on a mantis.
The hornets often attack honey bee hives with the goal of obtaining the honey bee larvae. A single scout, sometimes two or three, will cautiously approach the nest, giving off pheromones which will lead the other hornets to the hive's location.
The hornets can devastate a colony of honey bees: a single hornet can kill as many as 40 honey bees per minute thanks to their large mandibles which can quickly strike and decapitate a bee. It takes only a few of these hornets a few hours to exterminate the population of a 30,000-member hive, leaving a trail of severed insect heads and limbs. The European honey bees Apis mellifera have small stings which do little damage to hornets that are three times their size and twenty times their weight. The honey bees make futile solo attacks without mounting a collective defense, and are easily killed individually by the hornets. Once a hive is emptied of all defending bees, the hornets feed on the honey and carry the larvae back to feed to their own larvae. The hornets can fly up to 60 miles (97 km) in a single day, at speeds of up to 25 miles per hour (40 km/h)[6]
Adult hornets cannot digest solid protein, so the hornets do not eat their prey, but chew them into a paste and feed them to their larvae. The larvae produce a clear liquid, vespa amino acid mixture, which the adults consume; larvae of social Vespidae produce these secretions, the exact amino acid composition varying considerably among species.[7] The passing of nutrition to adult wasps by larvae is widespread in these wasps, and not restricted to the genus Vespa.
The giant Asian hornet has no natural predators. No insect in the hornet's area has the capacity to be a threat to the hornet. The only danger that the hornet faces comes from humans. Some villages in Japan value these creatures as part of a human diet. They are eaten either as hornet sashimi or deep fried. Despite the risks associated with the capture of hornets, they are said to be delicious and a good source of protein.
Oh, goodnight Teej! Have a good sleep!
Anon, I read about that Hornet once before, on cracked.com I think.
The only thing that scares me worse than Giant, Acid-spitting, Death-Tracking Hornets are Botflies.
*shudder*
sweet dreams TJ
anon I think those hornets are best avoided (even in sashimi)!
eep!!!
mayo,
after work today i wandered through some of the local antique shops (there are a ton of them downtown). i was particularly looking for an item for my travel altar; now that i have the box, i know exactly what size the rest of the accessories can be.
but there are always so many interesting things to look at, it can take awhile to work your way through each shop.
there was a little sewing box that caught my eye, it was filled with wooden spools (some empty, some full)and a couple of those little paper envelopes needles used to come in, and scraps of an unfinished crochet project...in orange wool, of all things! but what made me linger, what made me seriously consider buuying the box (even though it was overpriced and beyond my budget), was the little ruler at the bottom.
it was thin pine, only about 4 or 5 inches long, and cut down from a freebee from a hardware store, probably in the 40's or 50's sometime. there were marks on it at various intervals, where the seamstress had measured out one project or another. the edges were rounded, the surface was smooth, the whole thing was lightweight like a bird's bone yet sturdy with purpose.
oh, how i wanted that little ruler!
i am always won over by the ordinary artifacts of the past. the buttons and broken tools, ragged shoes retrieved from the thames and still shaped to the medieval foot that wore them, cases for needles and spoons and pens, bent pennies and ceramic dolls given to athena at the end of childhood.
i once held a shard of pottery 12,000 years old, and it had a thumbprint in it, so clear i could see the ridges and whorls.
that's time travel. that's the bridge that erases the years and reminds you how short they are all at once.
too short.
i think i'm really starting to dislike the first sentence in your post, however true it might be.
it never feels like there's enough time anymore.
good night, mayo.
Goodnight tj, sweet dreams.
Okay, so the power in my neighborhood unexpectedly went off for about 15 minutes :S
BC, we went to the Finale of the fireworks today, and shortly after we left there were four firetrucks screaming down the road towards the park.
So far, I can't find anything on it in the news. :/
It takes only a few of these hornets a few hours to exterminate the population of a 30,000-member hive, leaving a trail of severed insect heads and limbs.
O_o
they mean and ugly
Amy, I hope no one got hurt overthere
I hope so too BC. If it didn't make the news, maybe it wasn't anything bad...
oh dear amy I hope it wasn't anything bad
hows everything BC, apart from unreliable power?
Mayo, it is really awesome to read you. I have many of the same feelings, much of which would take too long to explain; but all in all I'm with ya on this one.
I am happy to see you are still here. Always know that I am thinking about you...and hoping for the best.
Take care my friend.
Hi Blogbelieve. Sending you ♥ all around.
Mayo
Goodnight
Elena
Night Elena. :)
hi anima, good to see you ♥ back at cha!
goodnight elena, see you tomorrow? sweet dreams
Hallo and Goodnight to both Elena and Anima!
Sorry if I'm distracted, I'm just working on an outline here.
Okay, I have to say sorry yet again- I was trying to get tickets for a show coming up in October.
Ergo, besides power outage, I'm doing pretty good. I have a wedding to attend next weekend so I've spent some of my day dying my hair. How's everything with you? Is the chicks doing okay?
RANDOM FACTS OF LIFE
If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.
(Hardly seems worth it.)
If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.
(Now that's more like it!)
The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.
(Awesome!)
A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes.
(In my next life, I want to be a pig... LUCKY PIG!!)
A cockroach will live nine days without its head before it starves to death.
(Creepy.)
(I'm still not over the pig.)
Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories a hour
(Don't try this at home, maybe at work)
The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body. The female initiates sex by ripping the Male's head off.
(Honey, I'm home. What the...?!)
The flea can jump 350 times its body length. It's like a human jumping the length of a football field.
(30 minutes..lucky pig! Can you imagine?)
The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds.
(What could be so tasty on the bottom of a pond?)
Some lions mate over 50 times a day.
(I still want to be a pig in my next life...quality over quantity)
Butterflies taste with their feet.
(Something I always wanted to know.)
The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue.
(Hmmmmmm.....)
Right-handed people live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people.
(If you're ambidextrous, do you split the difference?)
Elephants are the only animals that cannot jump.
(Okay, so that would be a good thing?)
A cat's urine glows under a black light.
(I wonder who was paid to figure that out?)
An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
(I know some people like that.)
Starfish have no brains
(I know some people like that too.)
Polar bears are left-handed.
(If they switch, they'll live a lot longer)
Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure.
(What about that pig??)
^^LOL
lol thanks anon
the chicks are good BC, I'll add some new pics tomorrow, I just went up to feed them
Hope you have a good time at the wedding
outline for what amy? I literary one or artistic one?
Ergo, a bit of both. I'm writing and illustrating a comic, just so I can say I did it. I need to keep myself busy in the upcoming winter months, besides knitting, sewing, and trying to keep myself from writing a resignation letter at work. :P]
But right now it's just the story outline. I did some sketches earlier, some I like, some I don't. It's not ever going to be published, I'm really just doing it for fun.
Good to hear about the chicks ergo. And thanks
ooops I was making dinner, then had it and only just now got back to the computer
hope it goes well Amy, sounds like a fun project
no probs BC
Whoa. I was catching up and had much to say but when I got to Amyranth's sparkly dong, I completely lost my train of thought.
Um. I second the eww there BC. Scary. And I didn't feel inclined to catch up further after that one! Thanks a heap for the nightmares Amyranth. Ya always good for that! ;p
Anyway ladies I am the *handyman this weekend so I've no time to chat or hang. But I wanted to say, nice to see you're still with us Mayo. Hope you are well and happy.
OPL if you could drop me a comment (over at my spot, heh heh) as to how the fuck ya upload pics to twitter -I'll finally be able to drop you and J the fuzzy pics I took for ya at my local fair! Please and thank ya?? ;p
Um, where is Elena? :( Luv to her when she happens by. Hope Wish is feeling better? Still hanging in there? Is J sick? I was gonna ask her to tweet a link for a crappy B-Movie for Frankie -It's called Skeleton Crew. And it looks REALLY REALLY lame. I think he should sue! ;P
Is Miss T doing good with her training? It's nearing the final examy thing yea? Ergo, closer to sept, should have more of an idea for Oz! OK so basically no concept of the current happenings in here, I'm lost girls, my apologies! But I am thinking of you. I gotta move, just wanted to make sure everyone was still breathing. Luv to ya ladies, hope you are all good! <33
*Raise ya hand if you've ever duct taped an air conditioner into a window all on ya own?? Oh yea. Who's the man. :) (I fully believe that shit is the only thing that will save us from the zombie apocalypse.) luvs!
30 minutes? Goddamn.
-later! ;p
Off to bed, goodnight guys. Hi and goodnight Lewis, my new Twitter account is stalking you :p
hey Lewis!
good to see you
I agree too, sparkly pseudo genitalia tends to derail your thoughts, lol
Mayo
how are you? Hope you aren't dwelling too much on your eventual finale, but instead taking every opportunity to create those memories that'll be treasured. Life is for living, so live it!
much love EP xx
SS
Having a good weekend? Hope you have opportunity to cool down, sounds like it's pretty hot all over where you are. I couldn't invite you over here though, it's supposed to be spring busting out all over, but it's leapt into summertime instead, or so it seems. Have to admit though, it's bloody nice. Hope you enjoy your day of rest.
lotsa love EP xx
goodnight blogbelieve, see you in my morning
♥xx♥
O.O
So quiet for so long.
Whoa. I was catching up and had much to say but when I got to Amyranth's sparkly dong, I completely lost my train of thought.
The SparkleCock has great powers! MUAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!
*runs down the hall waving her arms frantically*
good morning all!!
Anonymous said...
O.O
So quiet for so long.
shhhh
don't wake up mayo
it's siesta day 0.~
S
I
E
S
T
A
did somebody say FIESTA????
*jumps in wearing Carmen Miranda style outfit*
ooops
S - iesta
*places hat into fruit bowl*
*sneaks out*
Above the call of the fruit and vegetable vendors and the cries of the Brusle bakers selling their daily wares could be heard the disconcerting yammering of a child that was not of this world!
Today, above the modern din of honky tonks and partying crowds, it is said the unearthly, chilling cries still pierce the dark night!
This is the Story:
The Tale of the Devil’s Own Child –
The Devil Baby,
The Godchild of Madame LaLaurie!
In the early days of Marie Laveau’s rise to fame her clientele consisted mainly of Negroes, country folk and other free people of color whose long association with the practices of Vodusi and rootworkers made her a natural attraction to them.
But at the height of her power, when her mystique was talked about constantly in the salons of the rich Creoles and whitebread Americans, Marie Laveau began to receive visits from the upper crust of society. And it was her service to this sector that embroiled her in one of the greatest legends of Old New Orleans: the Devil Baby of Bourbon Street.
Mam’selle Laveau was often called to the ornate mansion on Dauphine Street to delight and amuse the doyenne of the famous Creole family who lived there and all her idle and very wealthy friends. The Voodoo Queen had been referred to the ladies by a woman of the highest social standing in the city, none other than Madame Delphine LaLaurie. The family was a well-known, old line New Orleans family who had risen to prominence through their dealings with the wealthy Americans who lived on the Uptown side of Canal Street.
The Creole family of Dauphine Street had a beautiful daughter named Camille and according to legend, when Camille came of age she had many suitors. To her great disappointment, however, all of them were Creole. To most young women of her station, this would be a fabulous dilemma; but for Camille, it was truly disheartening. All her life she had been envious of the wealth and station of the Americans, of their fabulous homes built in the Northern style, and of their immutable business dealings, all of which ended in profit that the Americans did not hesitate to flaunt.
In her few visits to the American quarter, Camille befriended the daughter of an American family, Josephine Brody, who often invited Camille to her home for tea and other activities. It was on one of these outings that Camille, it is said, met the man who would change her life forever and gain her a place in Haunted New Orleans history.
Mackenzie Bowes was a Scotsman by birth, though his history and how he had obtained his considerable fortune were obscure. He never made much comment on it and the shallow Americans in whose circles he moved with such ease were satisfied to know that he was “obscenely wealthy” and that the money was “very old,” coming down from old Scottish Lairds and some very lucrative family connections. He had arrived upon the steps of the Brody home in the company of August Brody, the eldest son, whom he had accompanied from New York. He was looking for a place to settle down, the Brodies were told, and New Orleans seemed just the place for a man like Mackenzie Bowes.
From the moment she laid eyes on the dark, handsome Scotsman, Camille was smitten and she began to look for every opportunity to spend more and more time with the Brodies and their Scottish houseguest. It greatly pleased Josephine and her family when Bowes began to return Camille’s interest with an immediate attentiveness and devotion. Camille’s parents, who also became regular houseguests of the American Brodies, encouraged the romance, hoping for a fine union for their daughter.
But not all were so delighted. In scorning her Creole suitors, Camille had mostly embarrassed them and wounded their pride; nearly all turned their attentions to other sultry Creole daughters. Nearly all, that is, except Etienne Lafossat Matthieu.
It did not please him at all that he had been set aside by Camille like a plaything that had outlasted her attention. As Camille’s romance and her stature among the Americans grew, it was clear to all, including Etienne, that marriage was imminent. When Bowes threw off his Presbyterian faith and converted to Catholicism, marriage was certain, and shortly after the bans were announced in St. Louis Cathedral.
All this while, Marie Laveau had watched with interest and she was not surprised in the least when Matthieu came to her cottage on St. Ann imploring her aid. He wanted Camille back, he said at first, but when the Voodoo Queen shook her head and assured him it could not be so, then Matthieu ground his fist into the table and pronounced: “Then I want her dead!”
To his surprise, Mam’selle Laveau laughed at his request. “You cannot know what you ask, boy,” she said in her heavy Creole French. “You will pay dearly for me to take her life. Are you ready for this?”
Matthieu thought it through as quickly as his fevered mind could. “Then make her suffer, like she has made me suffer. She goes to the Americans to make a spectacle of herself: make a spectacle of her for all to see.”
Marie Laveau spat upon the ground and stamped the spot with her feet. “So let it be,” she said, then set about instructing Matthieu on all the things she would need to make a fetish and to effect a good curse.
“Bring these to me within a week,” she told him, “and be patient after that. You will see the Scotsman ruined and Camille suffer as you have asked. Now, go!”
On a bright October morning Camille became the bride of the dark, mysterious Scotsman in the halls of the great St. Louis Cathedral. All the high society of New Orleans, from both quarters, attended the fabulous wedding and the celebration at the family home afterward.
In the dark of her cupboard on St. Ann Street, Marie Laveau worked her charm. It would be months in coming, but Etienne Matthieu would have his revenge, and would regret the day he asked it.
When Camille and Mackenzie returned from their wedding trip the new bride was already pregnant. Beaming with delight, the handsome couple settled down in a townhome on the Rue Bourbon, not far from the French Market. While her husband went about his affairs in the day, Camille spent hours planning the nursery that would receive her child. Nothing could dim her enthusiasm or quell her excitement – except on one occasion when she happened upon Etienne Matthieu in the market. His scowl was so dark and intense that Camille thought she would faint and her mother, who was with her, called for the carriage to take her home.
Soon, however, the shadow passed. Or so it seemed.
Camille’s mother, Adelaide, began to become restless in her sleep. Never one to be plagued by sleeplessness or dreams, she began to have vivid nightmares that would wake her in the middle of the night; afterward, she would be so unnerved that she found it impossible to go back to sleep. She tried desperately to keep her troubles from Camille, not wanting to intrude upon the young woman’s joy, but one day the daughter confronted her. When Adelaide told Camille about her dreams and fitful sleep, the young mother-to-be was disturbed.
“My husband is having dreams as well,” she told her mother. “He wakes suddenly in the night, calling for me, but he will not tell me what he has dreamed, or why he cannot sleep again.”
This greatly troubled Adelaide and when she had departed from Camille she spied a beautiful mullatress selling fish beside the road and this immediately put her in mind of Mam’selle Laveau. As soon as she arrived home, Adelaide sent out a servant with a message for Marie Laveau.
Within a half hour, the servant returned and announced that Mam’selle Laveau was waiting to be admitted. Adelaide went to the door herself and quickly brought Marie into the house. For what seemed like an eternity the two were closeted together in the Creole parlor while Adelaide poured out her concerns and told Marie every detail of her troubling dreams. When she added that Camille’s husband was having nightmares too, a glimmer passed Marie’s dark eyes.
“I believe the child to be in the greatest danger,” Mam’selle Laveau finally pronounced. “This is what the ancestors are telling me. When Camille is confined and the time of her delivery comes, I alone should be called to midwife her. Otherwise, I fear there will be a great evil laid upon this child. The problem is with the husband, you know.”
This troubled Adelaide greatly and she could not understand the meaning of it, but assured by the Voodoo Queen that all would be well so long as she alone might bring the baby, Adelaide put aside her fears. She watched as her carriage clattered away down the cobblestoned streets of New Orleans, taking the mighty Mam’selle home to await the call.
Mackenzie Bowes was always a dark and mysterious man and much about his past he kept to himself. The most that Camille had been able to wrest from him was his connection to a family of Scottish lords called Strathmore. She learned that he was in line to inherit a title and possibly a castle, “But several male heirs before me would have to meet untimely ends!” he had said with a wink. So they would not be Lord and Lady of anything, thought Camille, but still, the idea of her child sharing in this noble bloodline was almost intoxicating.
Camille went to great expense in making the nursery a fitting place to receive such a child, and this to the great consternation of her husband, who it seemed wanted to distance himself from his Scottish past.
One day, while looking through a Gazetteer, Camille came across a story about the Earls of Strathmore and the gloomy Scottish castle they called home. It was a cursed place, or so the article said, and had been associated for ages with the darkest form of malign arts. “Glamis,” it read, “is purported to have locked within it’s walls the Devil himself!”
This disturbed Camille somewhat, for combined with the dreams and fitfulness of her husband and mother, this seemed to her an omen of some sort. She began to wonder, but soon all thoughts would turn to her delivery: her first labor pains began, and she entered her confinement.
Dutifully, Adelaide sent for Marie Laveau.
Camille’s labor was long and arduous but the patient Marie did not once leave her side. She would sooth her through her pains and pat her head with a cool towel. Sometimes she would talk in a sing-song to her using the strange French patois of the island Kreyola. And it seemed that Camille’s pangs were having a strange effect on Mackenzie as well, for as the pains increased and the delivery neared, Mackenzie became more and more agitated and nervous.
He insisted upon being in the room, but Marie Laveau was not one to be bullied and no sooner did he step inside than he was put out again. The Scotsman fidgeted as the time neared and would not be comforted. At last, unable to bear it, his mind seemed to completely collapse, and he ran from the home into the dark night.
Camille suffered greatly from the labor and mercifully passed into unconsciousness before death came for her. Her grieving family was inconsolable when Mam’selle Laveau told them that Camille could not be saved, but that the child had survived.
Now the Voodoo Queen looked at them and told them to be prepared. “There is a curse upon this child and it has nothing to do with your poor girl,” she said. “This is the work of years of malice and someone who hated this child enough to bring the devil out of hell to curse it.”
Then Marie Laveau revealed to the family the bundle laying in her arms. All present gasped in horror, including the family priest who had arrived in time to perform the last rites over Camille’s stiffening body. In the arms of the Voodoo woman was not a plump and blushing human baby, but a grotesque and lurid imitation, a horror, a curse.
Wails filled the room when the thing was exposed and all could see that where light tufts of hair should be were two lumps – the early roots of horns to come. Where little hands and feet should have been were the claws of some wild animal, like a possum or a raccoon. There were scales upon its body, though its genitals were perfectly formed and all could see it was a boy. But it was the eyes, the horrible, leering hell-like eyes that caused Adelaide to faint in despair and Camille’s poor father to turn his back.
CHILD OF SATAN
“Take it!” he said to Marie.
“But Monsieur!” said the wily Vodusi. “What of his father!”
“IT’S father has thankfully gone mad! He was taken in by the Ursulines just an hour ago, ranting and foaming at the mouth. He is quite beyond our help!” came the heartless reply. “This is the curse of his family, NOT ours!”
“As you wish,” said Marie Laveau, as she bundled the little infant to her. A barely perceptible smile crossed her full lips as she passed out into the humid New Orleans night and made her way toward St. Ann Street.
But suddenly out of the shadows came the hunching form of Etienne Matthieu. Marie Laveau stopped suddenly but was not moved by the sight she saw: Etienne’s own curse had come home to roost and he was hideously deformed. Where once a handsome Creole man had been, there was now only the bent and broken form of a cripple. His face was so contorted that Marie knew no one save she alone could stand to look upon it.
“What have you done to me!” Etienne cried and lunged for Marie Laveau.
The Voodoo Queen held up a hand. “Stop!” she said in a commanding voice. “You are marked for all to see, Etienne, for Camille has died because of your hatred. Now you may be testament to her life. Go away, and do not show your face to me again. It offends me!” With that, Marie Laveau passed into the night, and Etienne passed into obscurity.
A thought came to the Voodoo Queen and she turned quickly on her heel, making her way to Royal Street and the familiar doorway of another infamous woman, Madame LaLaurie.
After the servants had let her inside, Marie was greeted in the crimson parlor of the fabulous LaLaurie home. When Marie had told her tale and shown the baby to Madame LaLaurie, the parlor rang with their laughter at what fools humans are to tamper with the will of the gods.
“But he must be baptized!” Madame said. “I know a priest who will do it right away! And I will stand for this child! It needs a godmother, after all!”
That is the history of the Devil Baby, but the story does not end there.
It is said that Marie Laveau and Madame LaLaurie shared the care of the unwanted child between them. Sometimes the child would be kept with Marie at her home on St. Ann; other times, Madame played host to it, and, it is said, she even had a nursery made for it on the second floor of her home.
Servants and slaves who caught glimpses of the baby began to whisper tales back and forth; when any came to the ears of either woman, the reaction was brutal and quick. Most of the gossips said that Marie and Madame used the baby to call to its true father, the Devil himself. But no one had any proof, and no one wanted to get close enough for it.
When Madame LaLaurie was chased from New Orleans after a fire in her home led to the discovery of horribly mutilated, tortured and dead slaves, the care of the “Devil Baby” fell to Marie – a duty she is said to have shared with her eldest children.
For a few years, the fact that such a monstrous being was kept in the heart of the French Quarter was the subject of continuous gossip. The pitiful and chilling wails were not of this earth, and whenever the rain would fall, it seemed, the baby would moan and howl incessantly, to the great disturbance of French Quarter residents.
One rainy day, however, there were no howls and shortly afterward the Laveau family was seen, all dressed in black, gathered in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, where they were laying someone, or something to rest.
Could it have been the Devil Baby? Most people assumed this to be the case.
But if Marie Laveau buried the Devil Baby back in the 1800’s, then what’s howling and terrorizing tourists and locals alike all along Bourbon Street to this day?
Just a cute lil story for you kiddies!!
um...thanks, anon.
an interesting story, wonder how much of it is true.
interesting tale anon
it is soooooo hot here
*gets cool drink*
*flops on couch*
hey! hiya TJ!!
you almost flopped on me!
hmph.
hiya. :)
I was dazed by the heat, sorry
how was your day?
it was nice, quiet. cried watching my lunchtime movie, i'm such a sucker for that one. lol
little sad tonight, the medicine hasn't worked for my sister's cat, so she had to make the hard decision.
oh that is such a shame, but it is kinder than them suffering, she tried everything she could
yes, it is. i can't imagine how difficult it must have been to come to terms with that though. i've never had a pet i had to decide that for.
is kinder, i mean. his back legs have stopped working now, and there's no other relief.
we did for a dog and a couple of cats I had as a kid, the dog was suffering massive kidney failure and they said wouldn't have lasted and he was distressed, the cats the same pretty much.
It's really hard and very sad, but seeing them suffer and knowing it'd get worse and not better makes them just drifting off to sleep a far better option
I feel the same way about humans really too, I would hate to be in that situation but I can see why terminally ill patients would like the option
actually, i have to agree with you on that ergo. obviously, suicide isn't something that should be encouraged, but there are times when a person's right to choose for themself ought to be respected.
there have been some documentaries which have been so hard, it would be a terrible decision to make, and should never be taken lightly, but in cases like those, if the person is able to weigh up all options, it shouldn't be illegal
a court over here has just deemd that a terminally ill man should be allowed to refuse food in a nursing home, also that the staff cannot be prosecuted if he does.
ha hasn't made a firm decision, but is happy they have seen to give him that right
he is a quadriplegic and fed via a stomach tube
it's a very complex area, but I can see both sides
he isn't technically terminally ill, as in he isn't actually dying of anything, just feels ha has no quality of life
and for "hard" read "sad" up the top of that comment
very complex, indeed.
it's a scary thought that someday you could become ill enough that others would have the right to make vital decisions about you without your say. i'm glad to hear that the court upheld that man's desire.
let's talk about something else, ok?
what did you make today? i always love hearing about your menus. :)
nothing so far today, but for dinner I am making a frittata to have with ham and tomatoes from our garden
last night I did spaghetti with flaked smoked salmon, lemon, garlic breadcrumb parmesan and olive oil
I had never done it before, but it looked yummy (the recipe had no salmon, I added it because I had it)
Mayo
Truth be told lately it’s very hard for me to think straight. Not that my thought process is ever really all that normal. It’s not and I do recognize that fact. My life is full of highs and lows that directly affect the way I think and the way I react to the thoughts of others. Well these last few weeks have run more to the “low” side. Sometimes it takes so much effort to remind myself that I must ride out the “low” because a “high” could be just around the corner. (still waiting).
But since your last post several times your words have penetrated the fog that fills my head. Kinda like a foghorn. The words pull me out of the dreary place. So I’m going to try to write my thoughts about some of the questions you brought up. Be warned it probably won’t make a lot of sense.
I too think when I die I will become dirt. Or as someone close to me says, “worm soufflé”. That thought doesn’t bother me at all. I just don’t think this body I now inhabit will be needed anymore. But I do believe that I will go on. That part of “me” that is “me”. My heart and soul will go on. Now that is not to say that I think my essence will be floating up among the clouds listening to harp music. I don’t picture heaven like that at all. To me heaven is being reunited with loved ones once again. I can’t imagine thinking that someday I won’t be with my dad again. That I won’t meet up with my grandparents. In my heart I just know I will and that thought I hold close.
And as for the idea of being shoved back down to earth to help others? Oh I really hope so. See I’m a big believer in “divine intervention”. And to think that I might have the chance to help someone else, to still be a part of “life”… well, I really do hope that’s the case.
I just don’t think of death as the end but as the start of something else. To me it’s not the end of the journey just another path that leads us to a better place.
Just my own thoughts but I really hope I’m not wrong.
But for now I must go. Take care.
Night Mayo
Elena
i used to make frittatas! such an easy way to use up eggs. :)
i should have known the salmon was your idea; when i read that part of your description, my eyes went all "ooooooo, yum!"
i've been using salmon a lot lately -- i mostly eat homemade rice bowls these days, and the salmon goes very well with the jasmine rice. it's funny, but i eat more salmon here, in ky, than i ever did in seattle, where we're known for our fresh salmon. lol
or a tortilla, you know with egg, potato and onion
I keep changing my mind, it began as a souffle, I have heaps of eggs, then it was omlette, then I thought I should use some left over roast potato I have....
good night elena! very lovely thoughts, in fact. :)
I like salmon, esp smoked salmon, but it's often so dear, I buy it when it's on clearance, close to use by, and chuck it in the freezer, the portions freeze well
goodnight elena, you have a beautiful heart
i found some that isn't too high-priced...course, it's probably not top of the line, either! but at least it's fresh-caught, that farm-raised stuff creeps me out.
have you thought about just doing a breakfast menu as dinner? my mom used to do that when we lived on the farm and the hens had been extra generous...she would scramble up the eggs with cheese, etc, and we would have it with a little bit of bacon and stacks of toast with homemade jam...
man, that was my idea of luxury when i was a kid. breakfast for dinner, wow!
*heh*
I do that sometimes, and is kinda what I'm doing tonight
it's nice and easy and delicious!
I don't usually feel like a full cooked breakfast in the morning, but I do love it all
I buy my smoked salmon at the grocery store, it comes from Tasmania where they have sort of natural farmed, they are in pens but within natural oceans, that way they don't get any by-catch
have to go pick up BG from school I'll be back
can't click on youtube links, sorry, anon. :(
have fun, ergo!
Hello everyone!
Once again it's been ages because I'm a self involved poo-head.
Apologies for not signing in, but I can't for the life of me remeber my passowrd and this isn't my computer.
I wanted to pop in for two reasons.
1. I still think about all of you qwuite often, and miss this place.
and 2. I'm engaged and I wanted to share the news! though some of you may know already.
I really would like it if I could keep in contact with everyone, but I don't see me coming bacl here very often.
Life seems to have enough dramas, and I find it asy to get caught up and hurt by just about anything.
Anyway, enough being self involved. I must have missed a lot...
How is everyone? whether I know you or not, how are you? :)
xoxo cupcake
cupcake!! hi!
congratulations! what wonderful news! :D
Thank you TJ! it's the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. ^_^
How are you darling? what's new?
i'm taking a trip up to new jersey at the end of september to see drive by...that's the thing i'm most excited about these days lol.
but i'm still writing, etc. how about you? still doing creative stuff?
hello cupcake!!
congrats again
Ohhh that sounds fun!
Are you far from NJ, is it a long drive?
I've been trying to work on my music, luckily the fiance, S is an amazing musician. Very multi-talented and so is his sister who is one of my best friends. So together amongst sorting out our personal lives we're trying to collaborate.
Speaking of concerts I'm seeing Tori Amos in november, looking forward to that. ^_^
Hello Ergo! *hugs* thank you!
How are you? :)
I'm really good thanks, very hot. How's the weather down your neck of the woods? feels like summer up here
oh, tori amos, that will be exciting!
going up to nj will take me a day on the bus. it would be quicker if i could drive, but i'm still in the learning stages of that. i'll be staying in nyc with a friend from my road trip last year though, so it will be a nice weekend excursion. :)
i'm so glad to hear you're still involved with music! maybe someday i will be making a road trip to see you and a band perform somewhere, eh? ;D
Guess who remembered her password, like a champ? ;)
Ergo, that's awesome. Reallygood is so uych better than good. It is NOTHING like summer here. Cold and wet, it's setting a record. lol
I'm heading up to Melbourne soon for a mini holiday, wonder what it will be like there...
Ohhh TJ, that sounds like so much fun! very memorable, I'm sure.
As for the other... we can only hope. Haha
cupcake's got her blue dress on! *hee*
well, i'm going to start my road trip fund right now, so that i'll have enough to go to your show, whenever and wherever it may be. :)
yay for password remembering!
I have to write all mine down, lol
it is so odd that we are having a winter heatwave and you are freezing, I saw there was snow down the south a week or so ago. Hope it's nicer in Melbourne for you
Sounds good TJ. Blue dress.... mmmmm Depeche Mode. Haha
Oh and to clarify, I was engaged earlier in the year, to the wrong person, I broke it off with him at the end of a very difficult time, and foud the courage to go after the man I really wanted. Which payed off very well.
It's all a long story, so I'm updating my blog now. Hah
oh, good for you, cupcake! it's difficult to listen to your heart sometimes, but it's worth it in the end.
Tassie has crazy weather Ergo... one of it's many 'quaint' characteristics.
Very true.... how's love treating you, TJ?
my best friend was a from Tassie
she lived here for years, but they just moved up to the northern WA coast, so it's just hot and dry allll the time, except for cyclones, lol
it's good you found the right guy, and he's lucky he found you! (or you persued him, lol)
love and i have agreed to stay in our respective corners, cupcake. lol
Dear Mayo,
Hello you.
Being a bit slow on the uptake, I've had to read your post twice. I get so distracted by the word 'death' these days. Having flirted with it, lost others and seen people I love come so close. It's become an ugly reality, and a sweet comfort, all at once.
But on the subject of the afterlife, my opinion is much the same as yours. Dirt, food for the earth. I think I'll be a memory, hopefully a good one. There'll be pictures, curious scrawlings and hopefully a few dusty recordings that will keep me alive.
I only recently even considered having children, till I met my fiance, I didn't see them as a possibility. I don't trust easily, and I always knew I'd have to trust the father of my children.
Heaven... there's no need for it, is there? not really. Heaven and hell can both be found here.
I think I'm just here to have a go. I don't need to answer any big questions.
I'm lucky like that.
Hoping you, and your loved ones are well.
I'm a lucky one ergo. :)
TJ, whatever works for the time being. Haha
oh cupcake I have heaps of photos on my blog too, the Silently I Think one, things I've been doing lately, fishing, the local show, the chicks we have at the moment, Ray and Zombie Ray at the dam on the weekend
feel free to have a look
*hee* very true, cupcake. :)
i hate to say good night while you're still here, i want to stay and talk some more, but i am about ready to fall asleep, willy-nilly.
so glad you stopped by, it's been great to see you! best of luck with everything, cupcake. ♥
and good night ergo, hope your dinner turns out fantastic no matter what you end up making with those pesky eggs. :)
sweet dreams.
mayo,
what am i going to tell you tonight?
i'm going to tell you that i hope you have a wonderful monday, and that's all i'm going to tell you, because my mind is fuzzy for a variety of reasons and writing rambles to imaginary friends is not a good idea.
sleep, however, is.
so good night, friend. sweet dreams.
I had a look, and Ergo, those chicks are so cute! I could just eat them! *she said creepily*
Sweet dreams TJ, it was lovely talking to you again. Who knows, maybe now I've remembered my password I'll try and get back more often. One way or another, you'll hear from me again. I'm harder to get rid of than *insert STD here*
:)
I've got titoring now so I have to say bye, but great to see you cupcake, and sweet dreams to you both when you retire
Have fun Ergo, you fountain of wonder.
.... what an odd compliment.
And at the departure of you lovely ladies, I think I'll go veg out and play x-box. I'm cool like that.
Much love bloggers.
Extra hugs for Mayo AND SS. ^_^
xoxo cupcake
Good very early morning (or very late night) Mayo, SS, Cupcake, Amy, J and L, Sweetcheeks, TJ, Ergo, Elena, Wish, KOL anon, 10:27/Devil Baby anon, everyone!!!
How are you all tonight/this morning? Good, I hope!
What's that saying about "truth being stranger than fiction"? Well, it certainly can be! And, it can lead to a most interesting dinner outing... complete with a fainting waitress (hope it wasn't the H1N1 ~not swine~ flu), the cook walking out (after tossing food out the kitchen door into the seating area) and a poor adorable "replacement" waiter having to wait tables for half the restaurant (and trying to explain what happened and apologizing, profusely). (Yes, he got a nice tip!)
It wasn't dinner; It was an adventure!!! Complete with live entertainment. It was great!!!!
I hope you all had an equally "adverturous" and/or great day!
Cupcake!!!! It's so good to see your beautiful, smiling face here! Congratulations, love!!!! I'm so happy for you! It's especially great to hear you "sounding" so happy and positive about life. This man better treat you right... or else!
;)
10:27/Devil Baby anon: WOW! I haven't heard that story in many, many, many moons. I had actually forgotten about that one and it was such a treat to read! Thank you!!!
Now, I want to pay a visit to St. Louis Cemetary #1 and go for a stroll along St. Ann and (of course) Rue Bourbon!
I, myself, have heard those "howls" many a night,
while strolling along Rue Bourbon, in the wee hours of the morn.
They seem to get louder the closer one gets to St. Ann...
Were they the "howls" of Madame Laveaus's godson? Or, was something far, far more sinister than Voodoo at work?
It was...
It was....
It was.....
That dang Absinthe, those Dungeon Cherry Bombs and the most powerful, deliciously sinister thing on this earth...
The Tropical Isle's HANDGRENADE!!!!
Oh, the horror! (Especially the day after.)
:P
Michael Jackson ghost anon: Thank you too!!! I'm not convinced by that "hood image" of MJ; but, that CNN video sent chills down my spine!
I shall be back in a few minutes with a little bedtime story. It's a good one too!
Hugs and Love,
~Namaste~
6/Wendy
Hi PJ, MissT, Martha, Fruit Punch and Bikey!
Gather around the campfire, children. Get comfortable and stay close to the light of the fire... and to one another.
I have a story to tell you. It's the story of "Loup Garou"/shapeshifter/werewolf...
inspiration for famed Cajun Artist George "Blue Dog" Rodriguez!
Loup-Garou
While the story changes with each generation-and teller-the haunting
tale has its own mysterious chapter in the history of Louisiana folklore.
(By Jeremy Alford)
Do you know why the Broussard boy, the one with the limp, committed suicide last fall,
right after grinding season? Or why those fishermen in lower Lafourche wake up every
morning to find their oyster shells already-graded or half-eaten? How about an explanation
for never seeing Mr. Henderson, who owns the big rice mill, out and about once the moon
gets to shining? I’ll tell, but I must warn you—and I only pass it along through a
whisper—that everything I’m about to say, this secret, has devastated and tortured souls
stronger than yours. For certain, it’s a Cajun fairy tale, but don’t be fooled by the innocuous
label. This bit of lore is scored by shape-shifting creatures, gnarly werewolves, untimely
deaths and mystifying shadows.
This is the legend of the loup-garou, pronounced loo-ga-roo, and the legend is as diverse as
the terms used to define it. Parents use the stories to keep pesky kids in line, like a boogey
man from the bayou (“Make yo’ bed, child, or ‘da loup-garou is gonna’ get ya’!”). French
Catholics, meanwhile, once feared grisly attacks by the beast—or ghost, depending on the
teller—if they didn’t obey the rules of Lent, a notion that may have originated with my
mother, a devoted parishioner of Our Lady of Perpetual Guilt. Surely, though, the myth is
older.
Actually, I first heard the Acadian fables by way of friends from the bayou parish region,
down there in Morgan City and Houma and Thibodaux. But they called their native monster
a rougarou (if you know how to make a gumbo, a real gumbo, just think roux-ga-roux).
There are likewise different spellings, but my patience is growing thin and I must pass my
words of caution along before it’s too late.
Loup, of course, is derived from the French variation of wolf, while garou is old Frankish
for the English equivalent of werewolf. Indeed, the similarities are endless. A loup-garou is
almost always a person who changes forms with the movement of the moon. Sometimes the
tales involve a werewolf; other times it’s a small, usually white animal (hog, chicken, squirrel,
dog). A distant relative of mine has a book, Werewolves on Bayou Lafourche, written by
Jean Sarrazin, Laura Kraus and Donald Krintzman—that contains passages insisting a loupgarou
is a man who has sold his soul to the devil.
To be certain, these creatures lurk and wander around bayou towns, not unlike your own
community. Now and again, there’s a story told where a person is transformed after being
attacked by a loup-garou, but it’s not because the beast wrapped its jaws around the victim’s
unsuspecting neck. No, the human is forced to the wild side when they draw blood from the
loup-garou. When this happens, the animal takes on its human form and reveals their secret
to the victim and passes on the spell of loup-garou. If the victim tells no one of the
encounter within 101 days, they remain in their normal state. If they blab, there’s no turning
back. It’s no wonder these little ditties often end with a suicide or two, the more ghastly ones
involving small children.
Down the bayou, there are sordid tales of the loup-garou taking on the veneer of a dark
shadow, which can be defeated, if need be, by piercing it with a wood stick. In these tellings,
the loup-garou isn’t always as fierce as its legend. It occasionally becomes a lifelong
companion to a needy soul or offers help to deserving people in some fashion.
The loup-garou as werewolf, though, dominates the Acadiana region. Barry Jean Ancelet,
Cajun folklore expert at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, says everybody in his neck
of the woods knows about the myth (if you dare call it that). The roots run deep. French
immigrants brought it with them to Canada in the seventeenth century and the tale made it
Louisiana’s way via the storied exile of Acadians. In 1984, famed Acadiana artist George
Rodrigue painted a collection of Cajun ghost stories, depicting the mysterious loup-garou
with a matted blue coat and red eyes. Rodrigue was haunted by the image early in his career,
but also inspired. After that, he couldn’t stop painting Blue Dogs and the world took note,
making him a real pop-art superstar (but I like his paintings of the politicians the best). They
say that man caught the spell, but who knows?
In Lafourche Parish, in areas of Cutoff and Lockport, the Pitre family has been sharing the
lore of loup-garou for generations. The patriarch, Loulan Pitre, told his story in Swapping
Stories: Folktales from Louisiana, which was, to my surprise, published by the University
Press of Mississippi (first they take our Mardi Gras and now the loup-garou). Anyhow, Pitre
recalls how a group of oyster fishermen would hear noises at night in their skiffs, then wake
up the next morning to find their oysters graded and cleaned and sometimes half-eaten.
“And so one guy says, ‘I’m going to stay. I’m going to hide behind a pile of shells and see
what’s doing that in the moonlight.” So, he was brave enough. He stayed up. And he could
see the pile of shells diminishing in the skiff. But he could not see what was doing it.
So he kind of went, sneaked over there, and he saw like a shadow, some kind of apparition
there. So he took a pole—they used these long poles to push the skiffs around—and he
sneaked up on this thing, more of a shadow, and whapped it across the back. It disappeared.
There was nothing. And that night on, they never heard another noise, and nobody ever got another oyster culled.
The Louisiana State Library has a document in its archives, which unfortunately is undated,
of a more vicious story about the loup-garou as told by a former slave from Baton Rouge to
her granddaughter. The young girl remembers that the title itself was cursed and “it was not
good to be bold and brave when mentioning the name Loup-Garou,” not unlike the dark
lord Voldemort in the Harry Potter series.
For as long as the girl had known her grandma, the elderly woman was without a right arm.
She never spoke of it, until one night, explaining to her granddaughter that a loup-garou in
the form of a “big black dog, maybe a wolf” attacked the woman in her care. Of course, she
defended her as best as possible. “He got up, turn ‘roun on me and made for dat right arm,
pulling, biting, tearin’ de fresh out. But I never felt no pain. “
The young woman died, but the grandmother lived to tell the tale, and, strangely enough,
didn’t turn into a loup-garou or a rougarou. But she died not long after. In her story, the
beast was a jealous former lover.
Like I said before, the story changes with the teller, but the dark images are a constant. In
the end, the Cajun fairy tale is what you make of it—or, better put, of what the loup-garou
makes of you.
credit to:
author Jeremy Alford www.jeremyalford.com
Goodnight everyone and sweet dreams to one and all!!!!
*wicked laugh*
Hugs and Love (again)
~Namaste~
6/Wendy
The artwork (blue dog and otherwise) of George Rodriguez can be found:
Here! I love his stuff!!!
Good Morning
Mayo
left it a bit late,
take care mate
much love EP xx
SS
should have gotten to this earlier, have a good one
lotsa love EP xx
goodnight blogbelieve, see you in my morning
♥xx♥
Hi guys, how are you all?
Hiya Mayo, how's things? I like this post. I'm not gonna go on about my ideas of the afterlife cos I've done that before. I do believe there's something else out there but I can't believe in heaven. I can't see how it would work. Heaven would be such a lonely place as you'd be there on your own seen as how everyone's idea of heaven is different.
Congratulations cupcake on your engagement sweetie *huge hug* I'm so happy for you.
Is Miss T doing good with her training? It's nearing the final examy thing yea?
That's right Lewis sweetie.
I'm busy practising the beep test over and over on the garden. I can do it everytime there but I'm sure when I get to London the nerves will make my legs wobbly again.
I'll not be in Blogland much this week cos it'll be all training as I'm off to London Thurs morning to do it (gulp).
Wish me luck guys. Luv ya xxxx
Just real quick, Miss T, good luck with your exam. Wendy...wtf? Sparkly toy, oh dear, lol. Interesting. Hello anyone around *waves*.
KOL ANON: I AM WATCHING KOL DOING READING. THEY'RE PLAYING AMAZINGLY. MY MUM IS WATCHING TOO AND HER EYES ARE GLUED TO THE SCREEN.
(Coz, y'know, she has a thing for them)
I'm tempted to be flaily at the telly, they really did put on a good show.
Oh, and Cupcake, we haven't met yet, but congrats on your engagement. You sound super excited, and so you should be :)
Good Day
It is completely incomprehensible for me to consider that once my life is over I will hang out watching the goings on down at earth while white silk draped, halo wearing, beings circle my head before diving down to intervene in someone or another’s life.
But it would make such a great fan fict Mayo. ^_~
Sorry, couldn't resist.
And when I die the only “place” I want to spend eternity is ardently recalled in the generous conversation of my family and friends.
That was very touching though.
You are a good person Mr. Naise... despite your little games.
Big lazy hello to anyone who's here or lurking.
Miss T: Super good luck wishes for passing the test. Good luck!
Cupcake: Good to see you again, it's been a while. I hope you're well and happy with your new love.
Sugarplum: Guess what?! I got tickets to see the 69 Eyes in October. It's VIP so I get the chance to meet them before or after the show. I'm super excited, I'll definitely try to post pictures! I hope you and your fur babies are well, and I want to wish you a super belated happy birthday. I hope it went well!!!
*blows kisses*
Wish: We haven't met yet, but I hope you're liking it here at the blog.
And I think that's about it for now. I'll probably be back later, not sure yet.
Have a great day everyone.
If you surrender to the wind, you can ride it.
Toni Morrison
good morning!
it's actually been lightly raining this morning
be nice if it keeps it a bit cooler
missT!!
extra extra extra good luck for your beep test, I am sire you'll do fine and the training will pay off. Will be thinking of you!!
hi wish
hi BC, how cool getting the VIP tickets!!
hi anon
for elena
I was walking home from school on a cold winter's day
Took a shortcut through the woods and I lost my way
It was getting late and I was scared and alone
Then a kind old man took my hand and led me home
Mama couldn't see him, but he was standing there
But I knew in my heart, he was the answer to my prayers
Oh I believe there are angels among us
Sent down to us from somewhere up above
They come to you and me in our darkest hours
To show us how to live
To teach us how to give
To guide us with a light of love
When life dealt troubled times and had me down on my knees
There's always been someone there to come along and comfort me
A kind word from a stranger to lend a helping hand
A phone call from a friend just to say I understand
Ain't it kind of funny at the dark end of the road
Someone lights the way with just a single ray of hope
Oh I believe there are angels among us
Sent down to us from somewhere up above
They come to you and me in our darkest hours
To show us how to live
To teach us how to give
To guide us with a light of love
They wear so many faces
Show up in the strangest places
Grace us with thier mercy
In our time of need
Oh I believe there are angels among us
Sent down to us from somewhere up above
They come to you and me in our darkest hours
To show us how to live
To teach us how to give
To guide us with a light of love
:)
for miss t
Asked a girl what she wanted to be
She said baby, can't you see
I wanna be famous, a star of the screen
But you can do something in between
Beep beep'm beep beep yeah
good luck!
5:34
I hope they are among us cos I could do with a host of them right now.
for 6:09
host of angels
:)
6:16
Thank you!
I will continue to believe as there is really no hope.
Thanks again.
awe inspiring photos of the sistine chapel
Michelangelo in a letter describing the ardous conditions under which he worked
I've grown a goitre by dwelling in this den–
As cats from stagnant streams in Lombardy,
Or in what other land they hap to be–
Which drives the belly close beneath the chin:
My beard turns up to heaven; my nape falls in,
Fixed on my spine: my breast-bone visibly
Grows like a harp: a rich embroidery
Bedews my face from brush-drops thick and thin.
My loins into my paunch like levers grind:
My buttock like a crupper bears my weight;
My feet unguided wander to and fro;
In front my skin grows loose and long; behind,
By bending it becomes more taut and strait;
Crosswise I strain me like a Syrian bow:
Whence false and quaint, I know,
Must be the fruit of squinting brain and eye;
For ill can aim the gun that bends awry.
Come then, Giovanni, try
To succour my dead pictures and my fame;
Since foul I fare and painting is my shame.
Cuppy, Congrats on your engagement!!
Same guy, I trust?
Teej, I'm sorry to hear that your sister decided to let her cat go. I remember how rough it was when Harley died, and I'll keep her in my thoughts for you.
MissT!! Are you beep-beepin yet?
Elena, you're doing great. Another rough patch, and you'll be back under sunny skies and flat grassy fields, wishing for a little excitement, trust me.
HEYYO EVERYONE!!!
you're welcome 6:09.
:)
heyyo & byeyo amy!
Just another quick stop in.
6:09, you okay hun? I hope so.
BC, I keep forgetting to say hi to you. I am enjoying it here well enough, thank you for asking :). Maybe I'll catch you around sometime.
Hi Amy, various anons, anyone else lurking around, Mayo, SS. Hope you're all having a lovely day, whatever time it is. I'm just having a little relax in front of crappy TV before I go to sleep. Stressy day making sure I have everything ready before school starts again this week. Ugh.
You know you've been watching tv for too long when it starts repeating itself.
Goodnight bloggyland and everyone who inhabits it.
SPARKLE COCK!!!
You guys really shouldn't leave me unattended for any period of time.
:D
hahahahaha
hello Amy, I think that is very novel and eye catching!!
anon I hope you find some hope, it's always darkest before dawn, and dawn does always arrive
sweet dreams wiah
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