Way back in the dim and distant past, when dinosaurs roamed the earth and I hadn't discovered popo yet, I used to blog Elsewhere. So, as I just can't get enough of the greatness that is me, I've been having a read over my old posts. Which brought back to my attention the almost forgotten World's Most Pretentious Commenter. A chap from Nebraska who, when not showing an inordinate interest in pictures of my assorted bruises (my main talent in life is falling over), would leave such bons mots as these: Senatus Populusque Romanus. The practice is anything but sad. When a solitary is out amongst the multitude: direct observation, no intermediaries, no teachers. Viz., #282, "The Wanderer and His Shadow". A discount on the marketable price of public transportation can very well be propitious. That's in reply to a post about bus tickets Signs and divinations are there when, perhaps, there is nothing else which would inspire us? Enjoyment and wild abandon may have some significance afterwards, when one has returned from it, akin to losing oneself to sleep, waking, and then recollecting some phenomenal dream. Hense we expose ourselves and furtively grind significance from what has become intolerable, commonplace. I mentioned rune readings. So vaguely on topic, well done. and my particular favourite, in response to a list of things I wish I could do. Betwixt the above enumerated unfulfilled wishes: an arbitrative solution (a compromise of sorts). Number 8 is the key. Most of these things have a kinetic theme. Forget the axe (5) and buy a good set of golf clubs -- I believe you are in Scotland? Envious Vonhiggins! Proceed then to the nearest driving range with a friend or two. That is where you'll satisfy the urge to swing at and clobber an innocent inanimate object. After learning the golf basics you'll want to start playing, and get an official handicap. Where is this leading? I'll tell. It will be impossible for those gentlemen golfers to resist the girlie girliness you so improperly demote. Once the gentleman is secured, variations of numbers 4, 3, and 2 can not be too far away. Prior to the golf escapade Betsie might consider keeping the dark hair (10) and letting the local stylist accentuate it with a new coiffure. Finally, it is never too late to start up the guitar lessons again. Inspiration might arise from listening to Django Reinhardt, as one might imagine Jack Pickford, before his demise, listening to the young guitarist at some Paris cabaret or guinguette. I don't know how to work gardening (7) and tree climbing (9) into this dubious plan, however. Bless him. "Nice list" would have done.
12 Comments
Posts now all clearly labelled with the appropriate tags (though for some reason, they're not displayed at the end of the posts themselves. Weebly is weird).
Happy now? :D I was going to write something, but then I thought better of it. So I'll just cryptically allude to it here instead.
*consults HHGTTG* The first in an occasional series
My name is [REDACTED] and I'm addicted to changing avatars. It's a serious problem. I largely blame the people whose images I've appropriated for Mason et al. If they will go being so damn photogenic, I'll need to see ALL the pretty pictures. This is more of an issue with Mason than the others, being my main. Do you know just how many pictures and gifs of Anna Karina there are out there? It's a lot. And of course that gives me an excuse to have different avatars for different moods, or just randomly change through boredom. As for Jeremy, I trust tumblr will never run short of pics of His Regal Alien Lizardness Benadryl Cucumberpatch. Banj and Algy are rather more constrained, for now, being represented by two people who seem to have only modelled for a very short period of time. Not that anyone pays the remotest attention to being age-appropriate anyway, but if I do ever decide to finally age them a bit, they'll need some major surgery. So those total number of portraits I have readily available to use: Mason: 122 (and I'm in the middle of converting more gifs, because why not?). Plus another 51 lurking online from the Bettie Page years. Jeremy: 86. Some from his teen years, and I just adopted him at 15. With a whole heap of others sitting waiting for me to do something about them Banjolina: 106, spanning a lifetime so far. Algernon: a mere 40. Slacker. But I can quit any time I like. |
AuthorRuler of the Universe, antipodean sector Archives
April 2024
|