Bloglet, the gentleman's mock turtle soup --
Moss made it sweeter than myrrh ash and dhoup


refried beans are very comforting. _
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12:19:09 AM, Friday 14 September 2001

. _
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01:09:04 AM, Thursday 13 September 2001

lab report, stendhal, boethius, hegel, millikan, stevens, jeannie's present, plague, practica at 6:00, storytellers at 9:30. Oy. _
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06:47:25 PM, Wednesday 12 September 2001

dona nobis pacem pacem dona nobis pacem. dona nobis pacem dona nobis pacem. dona nobis pacem dona nobis pacem. _
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04:34:39 PM, Wednesday 12 September 2001

Moss said we should, and I agree with him, have Storytellers tonight (it's our first one this year), but it should be gentle and different from other nights. What stories should I find for us to read? _
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04:26:04 PM, Wednesday 12 September 2001

I miss my parents. _
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04:22:19 PM, Wednesday 12 September 2001

they're having a loud raucous party outside. why? _
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11:22:08 PM, Tuesday 11 September 2001



















































































































I've never prayed before.






































































_
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02:12:10 PM, Tuesday 11 September 2001

(heard outside my window just now) "I'm eating hot dogs. It tastes like murder and murder tastes good." _
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08:31:24 PM, Monday 10 September 2001

What's the approximate upper limit of unsavory physiological details that one can reasonably expect to subject one's audience to in a public senior oral? Remi, I'm figuring you're my best authority here. _
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08:30:18 PM, Monday 10 September 2001

Soap is the Fling with Heathers / like Perches -- / in a Bowl. (Glub Bloop!) _
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05:29:53 PM, Monday 10 September 2001

the last three times I had garlic pasta in restaurants I haven't liked it. When'll I learn? _
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12:21:25 PM, Monday 10 September 2001

I peeled apart her postage stamps... _
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02:02:09 AM, Monday 10 September 2001

I really really hope that it's all just a coincidence that the Einstein reading is concisely exemplified by this week's Sexy Losers (no, I'm not putting a link to it!) _
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08:23:19 PM, Sunday 9 September 2001

There's a Tub Room in Murchison, hurrrray! And laundry, but that's not exciting. And I found a preying mantis on the doorstop but I think he might've been poisoned, 'cause he was all moving weakly and slouched, so I threw him away so nobody would eat him, and I hope they don't miss the doorstop. _
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01:54:54 PM, Sunday 9 September 2001

grace gratitude sin satan karma intervention prayer awareness duty bliss atheism cause-and-effect despair joy soul reason fate paradise suffering rebirth love _
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03:10:46 AM, Saturday 8 September 2001

Before I try to put together the huge important scary one-page 'Personal Statement' for all these post-baccalaureate things, I'm gonna read a whole lotta Montaigne. _
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03:07:51 AM, Saturday 8 September 2001

A group of at least 6 deep male voices were just singing, in unison, "Brazil". They knew all the words, too. At the same time, 3 or 4 women sung "I could have danced all night", and there was a lovely 3-part harmony of "I'll fly away" overlying all that. It's the Ark of the Covenant Party, you see. _
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03:06:59 AM, Saturday 8 September 2001

Schlocky name-dropping invidious pitying poetry! My favorite!


Gods in the Gutter
Robert W. Service

I dreamed I saw three demi-gods who in a cafe sat,
And one was small and crapulous, and one was large and fat;
And one was eaten up with vice and verminous at that.
The first he spoke of secret sins, and gems and perfumes rare;
And velvet cats and courtesans voluptuously fair:
"Who is the Sybarite?" I asked. They answered: "Baudelaire."

The second talked in tapestries, by fantasy beguiled;
As frail as bubbles, hard as gems, his pageantries he piled;
"This Lord of Language, who is he?" They whispered "Oscar Wilde."
The third was staring at his glass from out abysmal pain;
With tears his eyes were bitten in beneath his bulbous brain.
"Who is the sodden wretch?" I said. They told me: "Paul Verlaine."

Oh, Wilde, Verlaine and Baudelaire, their lips were wet with wine;
Oh poseur, pimp and libertine! Oh cynic, sot and swine!
Oh votaries of velvet vice! . . . Oh gods of light divine!
Oh Baudelaire, Verlaine and Wilde, they knew the sinks of shame;
Their sun-aspiring wings they scorched at passion's altar flame;
Yet lo! enthroned, enskied they stand, Immortal Sons of Fame.

I dreamed I saw three demi-gods who walked with feet of clay,
With cruel crosses on their backs, along a miry way;
Who climbed and climbed the bitter steep to which men turn and pray.
_
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02:48:14 AM, Saturday 8 September 2001

Got my grades today. {ulp} _
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08:36:31 PM, Friday 7 September 2001


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