text-only general wonderposting thread
this is for wonderposting at work, school, etc., basically anywhere you REALLY need to be "safe for work" if someone you don't know is looking over your shoulder and forming of an opinion of you in the meantime, and that someone might be very important. such as your boss.
RULES:
1. absolutely no pictures
2. no oversized text (small-size is okay)
3. no NSFW (or sketchy) talk at all
that is all
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Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
although the title says text only so i guess that's implied
that's NSFW
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http://metroid.wikia.com/wiki/Imago
(update: edited)
also
> Want to glow even brighter?
subject line of non-official e-mail to a dorm where housemaster of dorm is asking for participants in a nutrition study whose tagline is "help us discover the glow of health" (because it has to do with skin healing rates and stuff)
I really am tempted, despite not living in the dorm, to reply "I thought this was accomplished by acquiring kirara as a member of AKB0048."
"So?" is Säure's customary answer to that one. "Which would you rather do? The point is," cutting off Gustav's usually indignant scream, "a person feels good listening to Rossini. All you feel like listening to Beethoven is going out and invading Poland. Ode to Joy indeed. The man didn't even have a sense of humor. I tell you," shaking his skinny old fist, "there is more of the Sublime in the snare-drum part to La Gazza Ladra than in the whole Ninth Symphony. With Rossini, the whole point is that lovers always get together, isolation is overcome, and like it or not that is the one great centripetal movement of the World. Through the machineries of greed, pettiness, and the abuse of power, love occurs. All the shit is transmuted to gold. The walls are breached, the balconies are scaled - listen!" It was a night in early May, and the final bombardment of Berlin was in progress. Säure had to shout his head off. "The Italian girl is in Algiers, the Barber's in the crockery, the magpie's stealing everything in sight! The World is rushing together. ..."
This rainy morning, in the quiet, it seems that Gustav's German Dialectic has come to its end. He has just had the word, all the way from Vienna along some musicians' grapevine, that Anton Webern is dead. "Shot in May, by the Americans. Senseless, accidental if you believe in accidents - some mess cook from North Carolina, some late draftee with a .45 he hardly knew how to use, too late for WWII, but not for Webern. The excuse for raiding the house was that Webern's brother was in the black market. Who isn't? Do you know what kind of myth that's going to make in a thousand years? The young barbarians coming in to murder the Last European, standing at the far end of what'd been going on since Bach, an expansion of music's polymorphous perversity till all notes were truly equal at last. . . . Where was there to go after Webern? It was the moment of maximum freedom. It all had to come down. Another Götterdämmerung - "
Object not found.
imicowlex
icowpolex
cowipolex
The wire resists your attempt to turn it! -more-
The wire touches you. -more-
You are shocked out of your senses!
your senses (not here)
you (not in this post)
You are (not) this post.
You are (not) beside yourself.
1. What is the probability that you are beside a cow?
2. What is the probability that you are a cow?
3. What is the probability that you are beside yourself? Derive your answer from your answers to items 1 and 2.
2. 0
3. 0