tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13156070.post114451853227263171..comments2023-08-05T08:56:20.305-04:00Comments on watched pots | news: if you don't ask me out to dinner i don't eat.Michael McClenathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06628601293985540599noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13156070.post-79038641675135024202011-07-28T06:29:34.950-04:002011-07-28T06:29:34.950-04:00hi there. Hope your song writting is going well. ...hi there. Hope your song writting is going well. I a poet and struggle since being happily married, take creative liscence and lie.<br />anyway, you don't know me; and yes, commenting on a stranger's 6 yr old post is a bit odd but fuck, like I said, i'm a poet. We stray.<br />I wanted to send my sincere thanks. When I was still in high school I had "if you don't ask me to dinner..." written in large red sharpie caps on my wall. (sort of a middle finger to my now-husband). I am compiling a hall of words: a long hallway filled floor to ceiling with lovely letters; poems, quotes, lyrics, lines of script,etc. So many things said much earlier and much better than my mouth could ever form. Things to inspire,remind, chide, uplift, relish in, and enabelling conversation and crazy looks.<br />that quote has never left my head, but for the life of me, I could not figure out where or why it was said by thom yorke. <br />MUCH TOO MUCH LATER... Many, many thanks! It was driving me crazy & now I'm gonna see 'bout getting a poster of that album art.<br />if so desired, you may email me a lyric of yours or another and I will script it to fitting paper and stitch it in with all the other word reminders to keep on :)<br /><br />i'm not crazy,<br /><br />edEflatedhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17436503425276316650noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13156070.post-1146371758853043302006-04-30T00:35:00.000-04:002006-04-30T00:35:00.000-04:00dude. i remember the morning after, vic was sitti...dude. i remember the morning after, vic was sitting in his butterfly chair. he was sitting with his feet on the edge of the chair. he farted, then cupped the air at his crotch, and pulled his hand to his face.<BR/><BR/>he took a whiff and gagged. and then he said, "why'd i do that?"<BR/><BR/>i'll never forget that.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13156070.post-1146026922312379682006-04-26T00:48:00.001-04:002006-04-26T00:48:00.001-04:00aaaaaahhhhhhh. that is the sound of me shitting m...aaaaaahhhhhhh. that is the sound of me shitting my pants.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13156070.post-1146026897197205772006-04-26T00:48:00.000-04:002006-04-26T00:48:00.000-04:00aaaaaahhhhhhh. that is the sound of me shitting m...aaaaaahhhhhhh. that is the sound of me shitting my pants.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com