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Jes

is oddly aroused
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*giggle* Will it push you over the edge if I tell you I know we're unequally yoked--just like in the bible?

but seriously. Love conquers all and I am determined to make this work. I shall wipe the image of your wiener from my mind. Please do the same with my supple buttocks.
 

Jes

is oddly aroused
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Andrew, do you even read this web board? When have I NOT mentioned my supple buttocks?! i mean, i can't believe the web isn't laughing at you right now for asking! come ON, boy!

anyway, i entreat you to enjoy my easter celebration at TAP on Sunday. Good times.
 

OfftoOtherPlaces

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Andrew, do you even read this web board? When have I NOT mentioned my supple buttocks?! i mean, i can't believe the web isn't laughing at you right now for asking! come ON, boy!

anyway, i entreat you to enjoy my easter celebration at TAP on Sunday. Good times.

TAP? what's TAP?

Is this like "hurrr, I will TAP that ass?
 

stan_der_man

The Teflon Frog
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What supple buttocks? Did you mention supple buttocks? :rolleyes:
Andrew, do you even read this web board? When have I NOT mentioned my supple buttocks?! i mean, i can't believe the web isn't laughing at you right now for asking! come ON, boy!
...

I haven't actually seen the supple buttocks in question, but I have in fact seen mention of the supple buttocks...


"Laughing" is a bit harsh... snickering perhaps. ;)




Carry on.
 

Aliena

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DeAnne Dillard, Female
Ok, let me get this straight; I missed the penis and supple buttocks? I am such a slacker!

The art work is awesome; mysterious and in some ways dark. (sort of a gothic look to it)

Again, nice arse!
 

Jes

is oddly aroused
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for decency's sake, his wiener was removed.

hahahahaha. The drawn wiener, rather.

I hope.

TAP--I'll PM you, booboo.
 

Jes

is oddly aroused
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I haven't actually seen the supple buttocks in question, but I have in fact seen mention of the supple buttocks...


"Laughing" is a bit harsh... snickering perhaps. ;)




Carry on.
oh, you've seen 'em, stan. they may not have made an impression, but you've seen 'em.
 

OfftoOtherPlaces

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Your coffee cup buttocks have a nice tan to them... or is that a dark fuschia?

:doh::doh::doh: agggggggggh. I'm ending this line of discussion with an Actual Blog Post.

Right now I am tutoring a little Iraqi family in English. They've been in the States for one month. It is the son, Mustafa; the daughter, whose name I can't pronounce or recall for reasons that will become evident in the next pargraph; and the mother, named Mother.

The daughter looks to be about 20 and is mind-blastingly cute. I want to defend her against everything harmful in the world. During the lesson she giggles with guileless eyes and says things to her brother in Arabic that completely destroy my concentration. When she repeats a vocabulary word, something inside me twitches. Her voice is soft and explores sound the way the tail of a cat explores air. I must teach her to speak in English. I must or I will surely piss all over myself one night in bed and I don't want that.

She wears a headscarf, which drives me wild to see her hair. The headscarf is usually pastel and the hair is probably dark brown but I cannot see a single strand of it. I hope that I am not confused and she is actually Mustafa's wife. Then I would feel embarrassed.

Though the mother takes a little encouraging and must be hard of hearing, they are all eager to learn-- thus I am honored to teach them my screwy and wonderful language.

---

So Mustafa is about 25, and the man of the house. He let me into the sparsely furnished apartment and I sat down with him at the dining table as we talked and the women readied themselves in the other rooms. He had pointed at my boots when I came in.

"Are those army?" he asked. I said they were-- army surplus.
"I was in the Iraq army," he said.
I expressed interest and asked him what that was like.
"Very hard," Mustafa groaned, "no fun at all."
I demurred that I would probably not do well in the Army. I asked him if he served during the last invasion.
"No," he said. "I was finished by then."
I said that all Americans knew about Iraq, what had happened. A person would have to put their head under a rock not to. They are from Baghdad-- so I asked him what Baghdad was like after the invasion.
"Crazy shooting," he said. "Not army-- just people shooting. People shooting each other, men, women, children-- dead."
He continued.
"I have a brother-- killed. I have an older brother-- killed. My father-- killed. My house--"
I watched him cup his hands together and toss them apart.

What could I say?
 

ekmanifest

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Has anyone else noticed that we haven't heard from Jes or Say Hello to the Angels lately? I find that somewhat suspicious.
 

stan_der_man

The Teflon Frog
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I couldn't imagine what it must be like to live through a war. My mom (adoptive mom...) won't talk about what happened during WWII in Germany, especially after the war ended. I can only imagine how horrible it must be in Iraq.
 

OfftoOtherPlaces

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I'm alive! Actually I haven't heard from Jes in several days. How is she?

Just got back from a Flannery O'Connor conference in Milledgeville, Georgia. I went with my Southern Lit professor, Dr. C. While we were there, she advised me that I could write a thesis while I was out of school and thereby avoid taking a course overload when I return in the spring. I averred. Now I am planning my research. I'll start writing after Russia, come hell or high water.

If my thesis is any good, maybe I'll turn it into a paper to read at the next O'Connor thing.

I listened to a lot of panel papers while taking garbled and inconsistent notes. I also saw Flannery O'Connor's house, on Andalusia Farm. O'Connor was my heroine all through undergrad, but since I quit grad school I've been so sick of literature that I haven't thought of her at all. When I saw where she lived, it didn't seem real-- that she could have been a flesh and blood person. It was special.

Overall it was a positive experience. I met a lot of nice people too, which was a suprise: I had assumed that academics were always miserable. Perhaps my experiences in grad school were off the mark.
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Some awesome cows.










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O'Connor's grave.








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O'Connor's bedroom. She used crutches because of her lupus.









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The Andalusia farmhouse, c. 1950.









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O'Connor's church.









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Our awesome hotel.

It gets even better.

I met a girl from Ireland last week! A real, live Irish person. Until last week I had thought the Irish were mythical creatures that lived only in our movies, music and TV shows-- elusive fae who lilted through the beer-besotted dreamscape of a lonely and culturally moribund America. How wonderfully wrong I was.

I developed a terrible crush-- and the spring weather made my emotions go blooey like they usually do, so you can imagine how transcendental and ramped up I was acting over that. Nothing turned out the way I hoped, but I have a new friend now, which is even better.

...it's better, right? I'm still trying to shake the ballistic feeling I get over her. I hate and love crushes, the way pleasure and pain mix-- to feel so happy to be alive I want to spontaneously combust. It must be what mania feels like-- like you could stop the sun if you flexed at it. I think part of this is Spring.

But I got that teenage love feeling back, what I thought I'd never feel again (humor my dramtics). Guess I'm back to 100% ;)
 

stan_der_man

The Teflon Frog
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...
Overall it was a positive experience. I met a lot of nice people too, which was a suprise: I had assumed that academics were always miserable. ...

Beautiful pictures Angels! It seems like a tranquil place you were at. You'd be suprised... the folks in academia can be quite friendly, sometimes they have attitudes (or are just self absorbed in their own perceived importance...) But generally I've found people in academic institutions to be very friendly... In both the sciences and humanities.


Perhaps I missed it... What will you be doing in Russia?
 

liz (di-va)

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Thanks for posting those photos; her gravestone is really beautiful. When I was in high school I used to carry around a copy of her newly released Letters to try to impress the gay English teacher I was in love with only I wasn't so much knowing he was gay....heh. Gah, anyhow, I don't know, there's something poignant about seeing where somebody worked so hard by themself and died so young.
 
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