if all the land was paper
and all the sea was ink
and all the trees were bread and cheese
what would we have to drink?
and all the sea was ink
and all the trees were bread and cheese
what would we have to drink?
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Monday, May 07, 2007
Emails
Emails
i think the soundtrack of our lives is directly plugged into each of our spinal cords. some have purple leads, some have blue ones. the vibrations shudder across the oceans and depending on the magnitude of the vibrations our hearts are yanked into motion, producing a plethora of wild diatribe which we feel compelled to communicate. bring on mail. snail mail is the most powerful, the physical receiving of a letter, the torrent of wavy scripture, line after line, from a friend that remembered you. but emails can rapidly cover a greater surface area and address audiences quicker, that is obvious. like musicians explore harmony, melody and counterpoint, writing emails is about balancing those counterpoints in another, echoing, amplifying or adding a new voice to someone else's thoughts.
I'm only too glad to write to someone who needs a good thawing out after surviving a brave winter or another who has been crackling in the heat, living only 40 kms from the sun. well done for pulling through, and may i pump some more electricity into your over-capacitated brain, with its many resistors of different amplitudes. the lines of an email can read monotonously but if one seeks some pride in writing, as they would a letter, emails can carry the potency of sour yoghurt. emails are a bit like electric currents, with varying amplitudes and degrees of shock. sometimes, i get little jolts like one does off a car door, static buzzes that reassure me i am alive. its like receiving emails from friends that suck you in, and you feel forced to reply within a certain time span, knowing that whatever you say can be ust as important whether it is now or next year. moreover, some thoughts provoke me to write more wildly, as i believe too that the recipients world is inhabited by strange mythical creatures or at least ideas that are reminiscent of such animals, but present themselves in more diplomatic forms.
if emails were vegetables, some would surely be potatoes. uninteresting and bland. add a joke or too, maybe thats the mustard. but start off with a zucchini and any addition - even just a peppering of joviality - will be icing on an already juicy cake. if they were meats, then the vegetables are merely fillers, sitting amongst the pride of succulence. potatoes are great, but tomatoes splash colour that cant be removed. using tomatoes in an email can leave lasting impressions.
Kirk
i think the soundtrack of our lives is directly plugged into each of our spinal cords. some have purple leads, some have blue ones. the vibrations shudder across the oceans and depending on the magnitude of the vibrations our hearts are yanked into motion, producing a plethora of wild diatribe which we feel compelled to communicate. bring on mail. snail mail is the most powerful, the physical receiving of a letter, the torrent of wavy scripture, line after line, from a friend that remembered you. but emails can rapidly cover a greater surface area and address audiences quicker, that is obvious. like musicians explore harmony, melody and counterpoint, writing emails is about balancing those counterpoints in another, echoing, amplifying or adding a new voice to someone else's thoughts.
I'm only too glad to write to someone who needs a good thawing out after surviving a brave winter or another who has been crackling in the heat, living only 40 kms from the sun. well done for pulling through, and may i pump some more electricity into your over-capacitated brain, with its many resistors of different amplitudes. the lines of an email can read monotonously but if one seeks some pride in writing, as they would a letter, emails can carry the potency of sour yoghurt. emails are a bit like electric currents, with varying amplitudes and degrees of shock. sometimes, i get little jolts like one does off a car door, static buzzes that reassure me i am alive. its like receiving emails from friends that suck you in, and you feel forced to reply within a certain time span, knowing that whatever you say can be ust as important whether it is now or next year. moreover, some thoughts provoke me to write more wildly, as i believe too that the recipients world is inhabited by strange mythical creatures or at least ideas that are reminiscent of such animals, but present themselves in more diplomatic forms.
if emails were vegetables, some would surely be potatoes. uninteresting and bland. add a joke or too, maybe thats the mustard. but start off with a zucchini and any addition - even just a peppering of joviality - will be icing on an already juicy cake. if they were meats, then the vegetables are merely fillers, sitting amongst the pride of succulence. potatoes are great, but tomatoes splash colour that cant be removed. using tomatoes in an email can leave lasting impressions.
Kirk
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Le Verlan de L'Envers
Le Verlan de L'Envers
Mes meufs et mes keufs
Si je veux dire
Que les tromés sont pourris
Vas tu continuer a lire?
Cette histoire du verlan
Pas trop chelou
N'inquiet pas
et prends un choirmou
Si tu es pret
C'est chantmé, cou cou
Looc c'est presque fini
Et cymer a vous!
Que fait tu soir ce?
Un tarpé t'attends
Mais fumez pas dans la gnolba
T'entends mon son?
Les mots de l'envers
Sont jamais relou
Mais si t'es venere
Lis jamais plus!
Kirk H 17-4-2006
Mes meufs et mes keufs
Si je veux dire
Que les tromés sont pourris
Vas tu continuer a lire?
Cette histoire du verlan
Pas trop chelou
N'inquiet pas
et prends un choirmou
Si tu es pret
C'est chantmé, cou cou
Looc c'est presque fini
Et cymer a vous!
Que fait tu soir ce?
Un tarpé t'attends
Mais fumez pas dans la gnolba
T'entends mon son?
Les mots de l'envers
Sont jamais relou
Mais si t'es venere
Lis jamais plus!
Kirk H 17-4-2006
Découvrez une nouvelle façon d'obtenir des réponses à toutes vos questions ! Profitez des connaissances, des opinions et des expériences des internautes sur Yahoo! Questions/Réponses.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Gaellic
Ní hé lá na báistí lá na bpáistí"
- Translation: "A rainy day is not a day for children"
- (A pun: báistí and bpáistí sound alike)
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