posted by
elanya at 10:49am on 20/08/2005
~She's a salty little pisser
With her cock in your kisser
But now she's a will of her own~
I'm not sure if it counts as a 'song' though. this piece, we shall say. I really really enjoy it, and not only because of it base in Irish saga. I'd rip it for people, but it is nearly twenty minutes. It is really the sort of thing you need to listen to all the way through in a single setting, and pay attention to, at least once.
In other news, I finished reading A Game of Thrones last night and the possibility of L+R=J seems more and more plausible to me. I couldn't sleep afterwards, so i took the time to put up my posters and pictures in my computer room. I still have a few things to put up in the living room... my giant hazel, and Yao, who is currently being pressed flat under a number of heavy things. I don't know what it is about that paper, but it doesn't like being curled. Or possibly it likes it too much. Anyway, this allowed me to be up at the same time that
mousme was posting her most recent installments of Beyond the Pale, avaliable for public consumption over at
secret_history It's a serial western set in the Deadlands world, so you can be sure that at some point, there will be Zombies. I like it.
~The room that you lie in is dusty and hard
Sleeping soft babies on piles of yards
Of gingham and taffeta, cotton and silk
Dry hungry mouths call for your mother's milk.~
I have nothing to do today, no real plans to go out (though if I feel ambitions, I might see how loing a walk it is the the gaming store from here). I decided that i shouldn't lay around in bed, or in my bedclothes all day, but I also decided that since I'm not committed to going out, I may as well dress in a comfortable way.... So long pants and a long shirt, and bells. Some of you know how much I hate having cold air blowing on me. Really what I hate is different parts of my body being different temperatures. It's distracting.
I am trying to make myself a study schedule. I shoudl start working on my PHD proposal as soon as possible. It needn't be very long, only 300-500 words: a scarce two pages, double spaced. I need to think about how exactly I want to present it. I also need to satrt thinking about getting to the actual writing part of my thesis. I'm telling myself that I I start soon, with a quita of even 500 words a day, it will be almost too easy. Especially if I apply that daily quota to other projects as well. 500 words is nothing, or should be. Especially when I have a lot already written, and it is more a matter of rearranging bits, and not new research to start with.
~Darling dear, what have you done
Your clothes are torn, your make-up runs~
~I ran through brambles, blooming thistle
I washed my face in the river when you whistled me on.~
~Darling dear, what have you done
Your hands and face are smeared with blood~
~The chaplains came and called me out
To beat and butcher his mother's sow~
~But darling dear, they found him dead
This morning by the riverbed
But hush now darling don't you cry,
Your reward's in the sweet by and by...~
With her cock in your kisser
But now she's a will of her own~
I'm not sure if it counts as a 'song' though. this piece, we shall say. I really really enjoy it, and not only because of it base in Irish saga. I'd rip it for people, but it is nearly twenty minutes. It is really the sort of thing you need to listen to all the way through in a single setting, and pay attention to, at least once.
In other news, I finished reading A Game of Thrones last night and the possibility of L+R=J seems more and more plausible to me. I couldn't sleep afterwards, so i took the time to put up my posters and pictures in my computer room. I still have a few things to put up in the living room... my giant hazel, and Yao, who is currently being pressed flat under a number of heavy things. I don't know what it is about that paper, but it doesn't like being curled. Or possibly it likes it too much. Anyway, this allowed me to be up at the same time that
~The room that you lie in is dusty and hard
Sleeping soft babies on piles of yards
Of gingham and taffeta, cotton and silk
Dry hungry mouths call for your mother's milk.~
I have nothing to do today, no real plans to go out (though if I feel ambitions, I might see how loing a walk it is the the gaming store from here). I decided that i shouldn't lay around in bed, or in my bedclothes all day, but I also decided that since I'm not committed to going out, I may as well dress in a comfortable way.... So long pants and a long shirt, and bells. Some of you know how much I hate having cold air blowing on me. Really what I hate is different parts of my body being different temperatures. It's distracting.
I am trying to make myself a study schedule. I shoudl start working on my PHD proposal as soon as possible. It needn't be very long, only 300-500 words: a scarce two pages, double spaced. I need to think about how exactly I want to present it. I also need to satrt thinking about getting to the actual writing part of my thesis. I'm telling myself that I I start soon, with a quita of even 500 words a day, it will be almost too easy. Especially if I apply that daily quota to other projects as well. 500 words is nothing, or should be. Especially when I have a lot already written, and it is more a matter of rearranging bits, and not new research to start with.
~Darling dear, what have you done
Your clothes are torn, your make-up runs~
~I ran through brambles, blooming thistle
I washed my face in the river when you whistled me on.~
~Darling dear, what have you done
Your hands and face are smeared with blood~
~The chaplains came and called me out
To beat and butcher his mother's sow~
~But darling dear, they found him dead
This morning by the riverbed
But hush now darling don't you cry,
Your reward's in the sweet by and by...~
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