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Wow, that is an interesting new angle on the Spanish Prisoner scam. Making the mark also the eponymous victim. One of these days I want to try the "send me money just for fun," scam.
Anyways, have any of you had nightmares about something you wrote. Last week I wrote a ten page paper applying the ideas of Taoism to Franz Kafka's The Trial, it's been driving me nuts.
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All I get lately are offers for expensive watches...though the Canadian pharmacies are making a comeback.
There is, or used to be, an online game where the contestants added up how much money the Nigerian banking scam offered them. A couple of them had totals in the billions. (Someone I knew in my Internet Fan Fiction days was, I think, fourth or fifth on the list in those days---that's how I heard about it.)
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I used to have a dream where my book would be published in paperback---and I'd take a bite out of it. I haven't had that dream in a while, though.
Psychologically, I think it meant that books, buying and reading, were, in those days, nearly as important as eating to me. I suppose I grew out of it, probably when I had to buy and / or cook my own food.
Sometimes it would be a manuscript I'd eat. Same thing, I guess.
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Some of you who've waded through these posts probably remember me grousing about the times management failed to hand over a paycheck on its due date...
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Last night, while watching TV, I saw an orange juice commercial that was explaining how their growers were becoming environmentally friendly. During the course of the commercial they made this comment:
"...by growing our oranges with solar power..."
Does anyone else find this comment strange?
[This message has been edited by Strychnine (edited August 20, 2010).]
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What some people will try to get credit for boggles the mind. I've seen ads for phone service saying you can switch providers and keep your old phone number---the government mandated the phone companies let this be done, and now they're using it as a selling point.
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Yesterday, someone paid me to tattoo "Eat Sh-t" on the inside of their lower lips. (They bought the vowel.)
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I got paid today---but the whole thing seriously inconvenienced me. There's a grievance procedure for things like this, but it doesn't stop management from doing what they want to do.
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First day of Kindergarten today for my oldest. While I am excited for the quiet in a house free of a five year old boy, my heart is breaking.
It's the end of an era, really. I've been home with my son every single day of his life. I've seen every art project, heard him read his first words, made almost every meal, and seen every pirate/ninja/spy/store clerk he's come up with. Now I have to share him.
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Ya gotta let go sooner or later. I read when Douglas MacArthur went to West Point, his mother checked into a nearby hotel so she could still be close to him. Reportedly, everybody in the Army thought it was funny---except, I imagine, Douglas MacArthur and his father.
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Last night I watched a bat outsmart thirteen custodians, one of them was me. (Although he couldn't have been that smart since we were trying to get him outside to freedom.)
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Last night, when I ducked into the men's room for a short...sit down, I found some butt-brain had left the water running in the handicap sink. The sink overflowed and the water was all over the floor.
Despite repeated calls for a custodian "with a mop" over the intercom / loudspeakers, I don't know if any custodian-with-a-mop ever came...
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Today said handicap sink had a big plastic bag over it---their way of telling everybody it's not working. Didn't think it was busted when I turned it off...unless it turns itself on all by itself. (We've had other equipment that's done that.)
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By the way, I took some advantage of a rare extra day off 'cause of the holiday...I slept for ten hours, 5:30 pm to 3:30 am, then spent a lot of the morning cutting up old cartoon printouts and pasting them into spiral notebooks.
"No matter what the rational part of my head thinks, when I see someone hurt a woman my inner gigantopithicus wants to reach for the nearest bone and go Kubrickian on someones head." Harry Dresden, "Blood Rites" - Jim Butcher '04 ROC.
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I've been taking a native american literature class and it has been giving me the weirdest dreams.
Last night I dreamed I was on the other side of the Grand Canyon. (I'm not sure why I thought it was the other side.) And I saw this condor snatch a raccoon out of a little tree and then it flew over to me, I was hiding under a mattress so it didn't see me. The raccoon was screaming and crying till the condor said, "don't worry it's going to be fine," and started tickling it. Then the condor chopped it up and ate it on a bed of rice.
Now where did I put my Mid-Summer Night's Dream Cream?
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Did you know that Grist in the Mill is the youngest forum on hatrack yet has the fifth most posts? Feedback and Fragments for books is a few thousand posts away, them its Introductions that is next. 6880 posts for a forum that is less than two years old is something else...
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Everybody needs to talk about things that aren't writing-related once in a while. Why so surprised?
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Plus sometimes we feel the need to spew general weirdness and it's better to have that stuff in an out of the way room than in the main one. I think it has led to a more professional Open Discussion forum.
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That's why it works better to write: potatoes, tomatoes. You get people thinking about the song, so the concept gets across.
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I've played it on the piano, sung it, and accompanied someone else singing it, but no I don't recall ever hearing a recording of it. I also have the sheet music of it. It's part of an anthology of Broadway songs.
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Actually, I can't remember the first version of it I ever heard...what comes to mind are assorted parody versions, like the one where a guy who "didn't get it" tried to make it through the song, or one where Al Franken and Tom Davis substituted a few other words...
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It is so hot here! It was 107 today. There is no excuse for that. The other day it was 98 and I thought it felt so cool. That is sick. 98 degrees is not cool. It is only cool when your mind is warped from constant 100 degree plus weather for way too long.
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Here in LA we've had a non-summer. We didn't just have a bad case of June Gloom - summer never showed up at all. Well that is until the first day of fall. The last few days have been in the high eighties - low nineties and I'm loving it. But I'm sure it's the same heat wave that's making it miserable for you satate - sorry.
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Down here in Florida, summer is the best eleven months of the year.
Fifteen-some years of readings on my indoor-outdoor thermometer yield that it's never been hotter than ninety-nine-point-zero Fahrenheit...it's never been lower than thirty-one-point-eight, though...
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What do you expect? Seems nearly everybody in college these days wants to be a lawyer...that way, they can be the ones who write the rules that will let the government govern their lives.
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Lawyers rarely write laws. One of the guys on my bus does edit State statutes, though. He works in the capital building and doesn't seem to talk to anyone on the bus but me. Poor man.
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