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Also, the song is in 7/4.

I'm in love.

- DJRD, former bass player who would get easily bored with standard time sigs.

When "Paprika" is released in wide distribution, I will be going to see it again just so I can write down all the gibberish the people say and then quote it at random in conversations.

Actually, fuck that.  I'll just search for some of Noodle's early work.  It's in the same vein, and I won't have to wait two months. 

Once again:
Fuck this shitty pie loving thread.

Nuh-uh!  Yeast infections are bad enough when they happen normally - I ain't gonna ENCOURAGE one!

Wouldn't "Flight of the Bumblebee" be appropriate?

I vote for whichever has lemon curd.

Also,

OW FUCK FUCK FUCK OW OW OW FUCK OW!

Andrea Dworkin wants to categorize the pagan goddess symbols such as the Venus of Willendorf as pornographic because they overemphasize the breasts and hips of the female form.

That's really all I ever needed to hear to write her off as a whackjob. 

"So I've read your stuff, I dig it, what now?"

"Explain to me why it's all a load of bullshit."

* DJRubberducky squees at the Eliot reference.

How about a little of both?

Right now I'm thinking of games of chance, and how because everyone knows such things are determined at random, they would actually freak the hell out if a visible pattern emerged, even though in a truly random system that visible pattern has as much chance of emerging as anything else.

Take lotto.  A long-ago friend of mine in Seattle once bought a lotto ticket with the numbers 1-2-3-4-5-6.  His friend swore up and down that he was a fucking idiot for picking those numbers, because there was no way in hell they'd ever come up.  But they could, just as easily as any other selection of six numbers between 1 and 54 you care to make.  But can you imagine the massive uproar that would ensue if any state lotto *did* come up 1-2-3-4-5-6.  IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE RANDOM!  WE SEE A PATTERN IN THESE NUMBERS, SO IT CAN'T BE RANDOM!

Disorder that looks orderly...that's giving me a headache.  No, wait, it's my sinuses.  Nevermind.

But it has to be the *real* cock, not some rubber dildo cast.  Got it?!

Reading rants like this is like when I go in for my lymphatic drain massage, or drink my MSM and Vitamin C in the morning.

It's seriously, SERIOUSLY unpleasant.  But I keep doing it, 'cause it's the kind of discomfort that is ultimately good for me.

Well, there's also

"How was your day at work, sweetie?"
"Meh, could've been worse."

versus

"That two-timing scum, why isn't he home yet?!"
"Sorry, ma'am, your husband tried to put a spear through a rhinoceros's eye but got trampled to death in the process."

Someone else's internets, of course!