literally, "a time for planting, and a time for harvesting that which has been planted," sigh

So, I had to read two more chapters of The Art of Fiction for class today.

Two thoughts. First, as usual: John Gardner, go fuck yourself. However, second: he describes this really neat game that I totally want to play. It's a little like twenty questions with metaphors.

You think of a famous person, living or dead. The other people ask "What kind of liquor would you be?" or "What kind of dog would you be?" In other words, the questions are in purely metaphorical terms. Note that this took me three simple, matter-of-fact sentences to explain. Ahem. Anyway. Doesn't that sound like fun? Perhaps I'll inflict it on Summer when we go to the Bisbee Fiber Arts Festival this weekend...

In other news, we're learning about gerunds in Latin this week. Our teacher gave us a passage from the Bible (Ecclesiastes, I believe), and then totally played this song by the Byrds that's a loose translation of that passage! None of us had realized. It's the one that goes "To everything there is a season." In Latin, it has a bunch of genitive gerunds. There is a time for casting away stones, and a time for collecting them. I guess.

another found poem courtesy of craigslist - this time, "casual encounters"!

I'm not sure if this is a good idea
i never done this b4!
cougars where are you?!
big ugly its your lucky day
be my BANGAROO
If I lick your asshole can I fuck it afterwards
everything that's sweet is in puttiness
Can you handle my fire?

[And finally, this is in chronological order.]

Looking for my soulmate
LOOKING TO HAVE FUN
wanna fuck somebody

Writer's Block: Personal Holidays

[Error: unknown template qotd]

I'd create a holiday that involved not eating, drinking, bathing, or having fun for 24 hours; a lot of dreary prayers in crowded rooms; and worrying over whether your name's been inscribed in the Book of Life for the following year.

Oh wait.