speaking of jokes, i realized recently-- lovecraft wrote shaggy dog horror stories. it's all just tons of ominous build-up to the scary climax, only to inform you that we are under the threat of some Awful Soul-Destroying Thing Which Cannot Be Described Because You Are Not A Monk. though to be fair, i'm basing this mostly on hearsay, his only story i have read is "the colour out of space" which was a big letdown in precisely that way, adn that's usually named his best work. so there ya go.
i found out the other day (by watching beavis and butthead, actually) that a song i've had stuck in my head for a million years is by house of pain. of all people. BOOM SHALACKLACK BOOM. now i need to download it.
Tadonnen (1:37:55 PM): how are you?
King Nixon (1:38:37 PM): i am pretty good
King Nixon (1:38:41 PM): still unemployed
Tadonnen (1:39:40 PM): aren't you supposed to be like, eagerly sought after as a college grad?
Tadonnen (1:39:43 PM): employment wise?
King Nixon (1:39:51 PM): HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA
continuing my attempts to define art, here is a good one: "A man who works with his hands is a laborer; a man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman; but a man who works with his hands and his brain and his heart is an artist." -Louis Nizer, lawyer (1902-1994)
[1] gandhi was a good guy, i think we can all agree on that. you could even say he was a super guy. but he did have his flaws, like all of us. he walked everywhere. EVERYwhere. and he never wore any shoes, or any footwear at all, really. so he had really nasty feet, with big thick callouses. and due to his very strict diet, he was very frail and had terrible breathe. so i guess you could say he was a super calloused fragile mystic plagued with halitosis.
