Second thought: Pundintry is for jaw-dropping Hewittisms as in "oh no he di'int".
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
The Passionate Maximos to His Love
Come live with me and be my wife,
And we'll forego all pleasures rife
In rock and hip-hop, modern jazz,
Or any joy that good sex has.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Whipping shepherds who whip their flocks
By grey-brown rivers, to whose falls
Laundry women sing madrigals.
And I will make thee a bed that squeaks
Like those of which my grandpa speaks;
Decent bloomers, and dowdy dress
Lest lusty negroes their love confess.
A shirt made of the finest hair
(Things that cover what's down there);
Sensible shoes for warm and cold,
Which suit the young and suit the old.
No belt to bring out waist or hips
And thereby whet the gossips' lips:
And if these steps may thee approve,
To marry me t'would thee behoove.
The minstrel band shall dance and sing
Though they'll be beaten if they should swing:
In these conditions my wife must live,
If not she's no conservative.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
In Defense of Internment is complete bullshit, so awful in fact that it's dishonest to keep pushing the thing. Yet she does, and presumes to point fingers at others for dissembling.
I've never thought much of cries of "hypocrisy!" as an argument, but she's she girl who cried "Woof!"
Monday, January 29, 2007
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Friday, January 26, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Anyway, it's always fun to have an excuse to write a limerick. There should be more writing projects to give us lazy types a kick in the pants.
One more for fun:
While he pumped John McCain in the ass
The president cried out "Alas!
Since you held out your tongue
And licked shit from my bung
Kissing you now would be crass!"
Monday, January 22, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
The samoza variant seems more of a Euro-Indian thing and anything with a B in it is more Arab.
I dunno how it's rendered in Hindi but you can see that they've got a bunch of S sounds, some of which might get transliterated as a Z, and a whole lotta vowel sounds, which are nearly always inexact.
This is pretty hard to look at, but the Farsi rendering of somosa looks to me like four letters: SMUS. (Grain of salt required because I'm a novice.) In Farsi and non-fancy Arabic a lot of the stuff between consonants is unwritten, so English rendering is hard and varies with the whims of the person who does it.
It's this kind of thing that made me positive that the whole Jamil Hussein thingie was going to revolve around spelling and transliteration, but I was too stupid to take bets on the outcome.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
And what's worse than just bragging via typing is showing it all off. How do you live up to that? Well, you don't, you just copy it, so I stake my claim to unoriginality right here, start chugging the peach schnapps and reveal all. Here goes.
There's a lot about me I wish would change, externally and in-, but let's give this exercise a go.
My snout is a great one, inherited from my father, good for getting things all the way down at the bottom of the trough. Lose your keys while you're rototilling? I'm there! And this might be kind of a cheat, because I've had a little surgery on it, but it's mine, on my body, and I'm proud.
My flipper. It's a little smaller than most, which naturally got me some razzing in school, but lookit them little scrapers on the end there: Brent didn't laugh long once he was scooping his flesh up off the floor. And now I use 'em for peaceful purposes! What a world.
My foot. Just this one though, since the others have webbing that's getting all crinkly. Anyway, this one looks awesome in those plastic-bubble sandal thingies, but they don't sell those in threes which kind of pisses me off. And hey, this little darling is also good for back-scratching: ladies, I'm available!
My tentacle. Just look at it, like some kind of gorgeous slimy fractal. Sure, you can unmask a diver any old time, but show me a spaghetti-sauce jar that can defeat me. And you know that joke where you reach around behind someone and tap them on the opposite shoulder and they go "wuh, whozzat?" I just leave the tentacle there and it's twice as funny. And yes, I pay for the dry-cleaning, so quit wagging your fingers at me.
My, uh, hindquarters. I'm embarrassed to admit that I think it's so fantastic that I shake it for all it's worth whenever I get the chance, which is actually frequently now that I've managed that belly-dancing job at the Greek place on Broadway. So far only one bratty kid with the salt-shaker, but one spray of ink and that was that.
I am going to have to post this before I pass out and maybe I'll forget I did it by morning, which might be a good thing.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Go read or write a book, or something. You certainly don’t have what it takes to fight, or even help fight a difficult war. With benefit of hindsight, I’m forced to assume you never really did.
He's typing a war here people! Show some respect!
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Like many of my ilk, I have some sort of stupid aversion to even seeking out female writing. It's idiotic and should stop, especially since I pretend to have an open mind and all that. Into the links with Shakespeare's Sister for starters then.
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
Sunday, January 7, 2007
Started here, I think, via teh l4m3's fab comment, and Althouse herself seems to care, though AFAIK all posts labelled "Ann Althouse" are obviously not her. They link to other blogs, for instance. Like this one.
The workings of the Althouse mind are baffling.
Saturday, January 6, 2007
Who’d been OCD since way back when
He’d count peas on his plate
And make wall-hangings straight
And this kind of thing would drive him nuts.
An obsessive-compulsive named Rex
Was a slave to his syndrome's effects
He'd wash hands night and day
And then got carried away
On a stretcher after he read this part of the limerick and threw himself under a bus.
Thursday, January 4, 2007
"Yeah, he nailed me, but misquoting a post in which I call Pelosi 'Granny Rictus McCadaverImplants' as a parody of the left's fondness for writing 'Chimply McHalliburton.'"After which things are more entertaining.
What is even more sad and pathetic than Ace and Godlstein/G-dlstein spending hours posting here is that someone else may have pretended to be them and spent hours posting here..............And Ace....I like to call Bush ChimpyMcFlightsuit
I like to call Bush ChimpyMcFlightsuit