Fly Boy44321 (3:39:27 AM): must...refrain...from porn...
Fly Boy44321 (3:39:30 AM): so...much...porn...
Fly Boy44321 (3:40:12 AM): and now he's slow again
seasickmnky (3:40:17 AM): haha. remember, if you download porn you shall lose
Fly Boy44321 (3:40:35 AM): uh...yeah...lose....
seasickmnky (3:40:45 AM): haha, you lost?!?!?
Fly Boy44321 (3:40:56 AM): wouldn't you like to know
seasickmnky (3:41:01 AM): you totally lost.
seasickmnky (3:41:05 AM): hornny basterd
Fly Boy44321 (3:41:11 AM): yeah, well...
seasickmnky (3:41:23 AM): haha. I totally knew I was going to win
Fly Boy44321 (3:41:31 AM): how long did you go?
seasickmnky (3:43:34 AM): longer than you.
seasickmnky (3:43:40 AM): I'm still going
Fly Boy44321 (3:43:42 AM): bah
seasickmnky (3:43:43 AM): you?
Fly Boy44321 (3:43:46 AM): uh...
Fly Boy44321 (3:43:49 AM): six days?
seasickmnky (3:43:52 AM): fuck you
seasickmnky (3:43:54 AM): I hate you

ly Boy44321: perhaps the razor edges have dulled, but the blade is still there, ready to cut again

I don't know what you want from me
but it's probably already gone
I don't care what you think of me
your opinion means nothing at all
-face to face

RyanJGGR (6:54:18 AM): i can't fucking believe i broke my phone

I get by on other peoples stupidity.

(¨`·.·´¨)
`·..you

Fly Boy44321 (1:13:04 AM): it was a funny show, I started laughing, and then there was blood everywhere

The beauty is in your heart

you cant complain about your life if youre not willing to making the effort to change it

Not a lot right now makes sense to me
And it wont sit patiently
Im gonna chase my dreams and catch up to them
Im gonna find you some how, some way, somewhere, some day
-mxpx

and when I am trully happy with who I am, thats when Ill find you because I cant let go of dreams. and I cant let go of hope. lets never let go

I'm pretty fucked up in the head
its a temporary thing that happens every once and again
I'm feeling the need to let go and scream
and tell you know how badly you'll be missed
I'm sorry to say, I've tried hard to fight,
but it seems I'm just too damn weak
where are you when I need some light
I'm tired of getting blown away
and this flicking knife is looking really nice
this heart has caused me a lot more grief
it never really gave me much of a life

cause theme parks are so much more fun when the sun's outside
and i lost my phone to the lake beneath the batman ride

If you've heard of Machetres could you please hook me up?

do what will make you happy
do what you feel is right
only but one thing matters
learn how to live your life

missing you already
I love you

Sing this song for me
Tell me how you?ll never leave my side
And I'll meet you around 7,
And I miss you already, goodbye to you
Last goodbye I'll ever say to you
Replaying Memories
You'll never leave my side

i can't take the time until the next time i see you smile

you know I'll miss you when you're gone

Its times like these that I miss you most, Remembering when we were so close

You sheltered me from harm
Kept me warm, kept me warm
You gave my life to me
Set me free, set me free
The finest years I ever knew,
were all the years I had with you

May your blessings outnumber the shamrocks that grow and may trouble avoid you wherever you go!

When Irish eyes are smiling,
Tis like a morn in spring.
With a lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing
When Irish hearts are happy
All the world is bright and gay
When Irish eyes are smiling
Sure, they steal your heart away.

May the best day of your past
Be the worst day of your future.

Dance as if no one were watching,
Sing as if no one were listening,
And live every day as if it were your last.

Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines. You are not cattle. You are men (or women). You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate - only the unloved hate. Only the unloved and the unnatural.

maybe you were just performing for the camera

[you handed it to me so willingly]

Fly Boy44321: you don't think
seasickmnky: actually I do. too much
Fly Boy44321: what about?
seasickmnky: my fucked up life. what else?
Fly Boy44321: do tell
seasickmnky: that's okay. I learned my lesson last time...

Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines. You are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate - only the unloved hate. Only the unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers - don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty.

dwdaddio: robot?
seasickmnky: yeah its hot.
seasickmnky: don't be a hater.
dwdaddio: i dont get it
seasickmnky: its okay. you don't have to get it. just accept it for what it is

Climber716: why don't you come down and entertain me
seasickmnky: so farrr. and I'm not very entertaining.
seasickmnky: but I guess so. give me a couple of minutes
Climber716: woohoo! absolute laziness pays off yet again!
seasickmnky: haha. and I am a criple...you're so evil

tRaJiC SmERF: howso cripple?
tRaJiC SmERF: have you lost all your limbs again? whatever will i do with you jackie

matte517: hehe
seasickmnky: what??
matte517: thats another way of saying haha
seasickmnky: yeah I got that. but I didn't say anything funny....
matte517: you are too modest
seasickmnky: or you are completely crazy?
matte517: im not crazy
seasickmnky: people who laugh at random moments = crazy...
matte517: im just jovial jackie
matte517: just because you cant participate in my merriment doesnt make me crazy
seasickmnky: I think so.

why do you scatter traces of people who love you on the floor?
and i dont know why but I feel like second hand consignment.

Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger. I can feel you dreamin of me beneth the flesh of fallen angels. Do you believe

You were a song that I couldnt sing
you were a story I couldnt tell
Ive only ever loved myself
But Ive loved myself so well
And how defeated I return
youre nice and blue, youre nice and blue
I missed what I was supposed to learn
as all I learned about was missing you

your crayons are all broken
there isnt any rainbows around
its not quite raining
but up in the sky
are those grey clouds that we hate

there is a light in the distance
that blinks its goodbye
we write our I love yous
before falling to the ground
asking ourselves why

if i could feel your smile
then maybe things would be all right
but through these cloudy eyes
there isnt much that can be seen
in a world of grey, im looking for my break

and i dont mean a break in my bones
and i dont mean a break in my heart
just a chance to escape
just a moment to let you know what i mean

ive been watching every step i take
careful not to mess things up again
and maybe ill stop walking straight
hoping that one day youll talk to me
cause i dont want to make this mistake over

our words falter and not much is said
im partly broken and partly dead
but mostly partly scared inside
scared that this is goodbye

And there's one person at home who I know isn't reading this and I just want to say that I miss him so much: I love you more than you'll ever know, I hope you're alright and pray that you'll get through this and I wish I could talk to you and I know it wouldn't matter what I'd say but I still can't find the right words. I hate having emotional profiles. But I'd hate even more if I didn't say what I wanted to say even if you'll never read it. Life is short enough, don't go trying to make it shorter.

Every breath taken always comes undone.
I'll start holding my voice again..

so keep me updated, call back in a week to check up on me..

sometimes I wish the wind would blow me away

I was looking for the perfect away message. Yet this perfect message couldn't be found.
So instead I'll tell you how much I love you. and am greatful to call you a friend.
Because the greatest weakness of most humans
Is their hesitancy to tell others,
How much they love them
While they're alive.

someshadeofgrey:

twat!

LadyRepublica:

pussy!

Police Officer: I think you're missing your calling

Nunc scio quit sit amor.

Fear less, hope more;
Whine less, breathe more;
Talk less, say more;
Hate less, love more;
And all good things are yours.

Live as if your were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.

Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you're alive, it isn't

The grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for.

March 1st. Stop the Ignorance

They say we all lose 21 grams at the exact moment of our death...everyone.
The weight of a stack of nickels.
The weight of a chocolate bar.
The weight of a hummingbird.
whose going to lose 21 grams next?

with light bulbs in our pockets
we'll light this darkened forest
on the mossy turf, we'll dance till
our feet shatter, toes will splinter
tripping through the misty streams of light
so beautiful, i stare in awe

If this is my imagination than I want a new one.

Life isn't about the number of breaths we take, but the moments that take our breath away

I'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried underneath where i am

"We're the convenience of having the newpaper delivered to your room daily, we're USA Today"
ten le grrr ten: no officer, someone PLANTED it

wipe that tear from your eye.
I have smiles to spare.
<3<3<3<3

In a world of grays, blacks, and whites, I am hot pink.

Jackie (while looking at a diagram of a cell): You know I really used to get off on this shit.

People change.
and this is just who I've become. I am greatful for everything that I have learned and experienced. I know that if I really want to make a difference I need to get a degree but right now...I don't know. Maybe its just the fact that I have no idea what I am going to do after all of this. Maybe my goals have all been set before me by someone else before this and it hasn't been until recently that I realized that my goals are no longer the ones that have been set for me. I want to travel. I want to help people. I want to join the peace corps. I want to do art. but you see, money doesn't come into my equation at all. and that's what fucks me over. because money is the most important thing in socitey and to my parents who regard money as a term of sucess. you know what?...I don't even know why I bother...

and maybe I'm scared.

Seasickmnky: yes. I'm pretty bitter tasting. and there is this weird after taste....
ShinyCube7: but what if i marinated you
ShinyCube7: mmm tariakyi jackie
Seasickmnky: good thing you're a vegetarian or I would be a little disturbed....

ShinyCube7 (1:45:47 AM): i am all for asexul reproduction and loving ones dildo

MikeS1985: ya, i hear she has pretty big vibrators
Osh Rules: by the sounds of it when i'm trying to sleep.... i'd agree

College has caused me to lose many things that I have hold dear. Art and writing mostly. maybe not college directly but things brought on by college. I use to be praisied for my art. In middle school I was artist of the year every year. In high school I knew all of the art teachers and they were all impressed with talents that I possesed. Though looking back I never thought I was anything special. I still don't...I have been able to convince others of my abitlities but not myself. I should work on that.

I've only seen my Dad really cry four times in my life. Once when I was around 8 and I was singing 'Don't step on the cracks or you'll break your fathers back.' and he asked me why I had changed it from mother to father and I replied 'because I don't have a mother anymore.' The second time was when I was 11 and I flew over my bike handle bars, landed face first into the cement and knocked out my two front permanent teeth. There is still a blood stain on the road...The last time was when I was in 9th grade and my whole body went completely numb. My arms started moving by themselves but otherwise, I couldn't move anything. Even my tongue was numb. I was so scared that I was going to die or be paralyzed, my Dad was there with me the whole time. The last time was when he finally realized how depressed my brother and I were. He thought he had failed the family and that he wasn't a good father. But he was wrong. I was and always be Daddy's Girl.

Once when I was little I was over at my friend Chris' house and sniffing flowers in his back yard when a bee flew up my nose and stung me.

I use to have dreams all the time. But now I don't have any very often. at least not ones I can recall.
I remember when I was little I had a dream that My Dad and Mom were getting attacked by a giant alligator. That was the scariest dream I can remember having.

In high school I was a memeber of the bedding barn six.
since we were all photographers we got pictures of teachers and made fliers with assorted messages. We than took these fliers and posted them all over the school. We got the Newspaper in trouble because people thought they were doing it. obviously they didn't know how to us the security cameras because we never got in trouble.
(Bedding Barn: a mattress place in b-ville that have been open forever though there is never anyone in the parking lot).

My freshman year of high school I was really good friends with this guy named Fred.
and one day he called me Jackie Chan. Of course I had to give him a name too. Which ended up being Fred Flinstone. I haven't talked to Fred in awhile but I here he's becoming a Fireman and often drives his fire engine to our old high school where he blows the horns outside Ms. Beatty's class room on a regular basis.

let's make my away messages really vague and confuse people....

We once had a poodle named spunky.
Frankly I think we should of named him noodle. but that's just me.
We gave him away because he had a small bladder and we weren't around all day to clean up after him.

Seasickmnky: loving as in "i hate you stupid bitch"? must be tough love...

Come see our kick ass door.
I am so proud :-)

I don't even have words to describe
or how to make things right.
I can't even take my own advice.
I just want to know who you write your love songs to.

someshadeofgrey:
someshadeofgrey: that means that i was trying something unusual sexually but then it was surprisingly pleasant

Happy Valentines Day

Anti Colm and James Week

TheEyebrow: You shouldn't have let him know
TheEyebrow: Now he didn't learn a lesson
TheEyebrow: Now he's just gonna throw up during class all the time

LemonMon: i lvoe jackkkkkkkie
LemonMon: sexy pantssss

Lisa: My down there is clean enough

squidcore: can I have sex with the shadow puppets?
squidcore: you have no idea how desperate I am.

Joanne: I've decide this is the semester
Lisa: to dominate a virgin?

[life is hard. and sometimes all you have to do is deal with it. you can't argue with pure fact. If life were easy than what would be the point of anything? there'd be nothing to fight for. or be passionate about. life wouldn't be worth it if we didn't have something to struggle for.]

the sky is not so wonderful tonight
but the view from your eyes makes everything alright.
promise to love me and never let me go
because I don't want to feel lost like i have before.

I would rather keep my eyes
despite the pain and tears
because what it comes down to
is that if I cut them out
I'd never see your beautiful smile.

this is me becoming emotionally unattached.
i just don't really care anymore.
so yeah. fuck this.

i want to disappear into the night.

this is me bleeding from my ears.

break me.

matte517: you are just popular
matte517: an urban myth of sorts
matte517: but a real one...
matte517: everyone "knows" you

<1<2<3<4<5<6<7<8

someshadeofgrey (2:54:29 PM): dudde you better not drink again, because if you get really fucked up and pass out i'm goin gto sharpie a goose to your neck

LadyRepublica: i less than 3 you too

Remember when you were little and your parents were giving you a bath, or teaching you how to swim? And you would somehow get water in your eyes and you would attempt to wipe the water from your eyes and be coughing and crying the whole time? And your parents would go "It's just water!"

Well, bite me, okay? Because when people drown you don't say "it's just water."

someshadeofgrey: you are a girl.
Seasickmnky: that I am. at least i was last time I checked...hmmmm
someshadeofgrey: check, its not that hard, just look downwards
Seasickmnky: okay hold on...
someshadeofgrey: dude wouldn't u flip out if a penis popped out/
someshadeofgrey: you'd be like FUCK WHA THTEOIHWSG:OHO:WGHIS:OGH
someshadeofgrey: and you'd cry
Seasickmnky: haha. yeah I would.
someshadeofgrey: because penises are weird looking
Seasickmnky: good thing its still a vagina

Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a total mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

Girl with a Bowl on her Head


When I was a girl, my mother
always made me

wear a wooden bowl on my head.
She wanted to

keep people from looking at me
and it worked. No

one ever really saw me, but
only the bowl,

or what they thought they might have glimpsed
from underneath,

and soon I became secretive
as an acorn.

I cultivated a new way
of seeing and

became a connoisseur of strange,
vegetal things

kept hidden inside—the second
miniature

bell pepper nested inside the first
like a Russian

doll, green, with the intricate curl
and fold of an

ear. Or how the inscrutable
placid carrot

ripening into anarchy
splits wide open

and bares its ropey length of barbed,
thorny spine. Or

the tearing apart of spicy
cool globes of or-

anges to sometimes find an extra
section, the size

of a lima bean, tucked between
two large sections

like a flower pressed in the pages
of a thick book.

Hungrily picking and plucking
at the thistled

leaves of an artichoke, down to
the translucent

purple-tipped petals that flutter
thin as gills, down

past the nest of buttery fur
cropped close like a

scrub brush that comes off in sticky
clumps, all the way

down to the green, sweet creamy heart.


Lee Ann Roripaugh

Exhaustion


I lie down in the Dark Ages, another night deficient in ecstasy.
I'm tired of the old laws and the new laws and the laws they've been thinking
up between breakfast and delirium.
I might as well be driving a dog sled in the white waste of Alaska, mukluks
still feral on my feet,
Or sliding a two-ton truck through Alabama mud, a seizure of fiddles on the
radio and a bumper sticker that says: Living in a vacuum sucks.
The world's run short of taffeta and courtesy and grass widows with a gamy
scent.
And where are you, bare spark at the flash point, when I need the moony
spasms of release?
I'm tired of all the stagestruck mothers with little Hamlets in the womb, and
those snakehandlers whipping Jesus in the lead with their rattlers and
cottonmouths.
And I'm worn out from the terror, the gruesome excuses for a heart packed
in dry ice and a flag strung up by the neck.
The heart frightens me, too, the way it motors off on its own, with no backup,
no redundant systems for the pump.
So what's the weather like in the otherworld? Same today as the last eternity
— nothing changes where everything's changed.
Even the Bible's been divided into tongues, from the Aramaic all the way to
gangster slang: So they brung him down the cross, and the guy's already
colder than a Jersey whore.
And what about you? Idle hands, when I could use another volunteer to stir
the fleshpots.
I've survived the drumrolls and the German sense of humor and the bloody
flux — why isn't it someone else's turn to pull the temple down?
I'm not feeling world-historical tonight, though I can still smell the stench of
a rotten hypothesis, like eggheads left out too long in the sun.
My mind's one wrinkle away from ravenous black — spiders in the brainpan,
and all circuits down on the motherboard.
And I'm so tired of death shouldering his scythe across the fields,
grasshoppers leaping from his bony toes.
Give me freshets from the belly; quicken my desire by some strange order
of magnitude; fix me a poultice to bring the swelling down.
The hour already feels tainted and ancient. And then, at the low stroke of
the soul, you come.


Elton Glaser

The History of The
first, we weren't anyone

or a cloud taught us. Then rain,
then the slow moving toward.
Which is to say, it was the sun
we saw, the sky
blue because certain vast machinery
in the eye tells us what is
color. Second, we found two whose
bodies might invite us here. Past
the dark room of that
though it was pleasant enough. Third,
the long slide. Then the longer
learning simple massive things: food
goes into the mouth. And on its way out?
Well, there are other things
of mystery: how one number equals those
two birds on a branch, why sleep comes
and forces you to lie down straight.
Remember, we weren't anyone.
And then, that changed
and changed again.

• • •

I had a book once

and opened it. Maybe it was important.
I watched my grandfather read like that, his lips
moved, silent, and I saw his eyes go
word by word, left to right. Forty years ago.

And to see that now? How could it matter?
Under the knife, the body is quiet.
And the surgeon gathers himself like water
to the sponge. The room is cool
as the past is cool in its
immaculate way. Dark hallways. Even in the summer,
the rooms there.... Meanwhile, my grandfather
read by the window. And I gathered myself

though there was no self yet
to gather. How to say this? I watched
light fall on him and all his years:
beautiful, courtly.

• • •

the bone house

and we build it, one of childhood's
great triumphs. Rib, spine, femur, skull
to take the weight of days, release

of nights: knuckle, vertebrae, joints
for every moveable minute — up, down,
in, out. Is the soul a tent

draped under it? Tiny fractures that
curve the spine, that change the walking
forward or backward, the cadence,

the way we imagine here to there.
Over so much time. And now this
stiffening, this clicking, each step,

each step down. Ghost of the old ones
passing into my tent where we
sit down wordless, no tea to pass.

• • •

the history of

the, says the linguist, began grandly
as that. As opposed to the plainest a
meaning a man, a woman, a day like any other
day between them. Oh ancient
the! — as in that second cousin I loved, say,
or that afternoon once, when you
looked down into the empty lot,
the old woman saying: sometimes, it's
just filled with cars! The
with a hat on, a wild feather
in such a hat, spotted, streaked,
even tipped in red. Until, until
the great graying into
the, oh lord of balance, oh
polite nod to center the blooming
whatever-it-is
on the tablecloth.

• • •

guesswork

is work: one eye open, the other —
always building back to that
earliest half-lit place
where days were an inch, the night
miles of inching through space,
one dim star
to star. I only mean
I liked those times
sitting in the woods alone,
nothing quite locked
in my binoculars, my confusion kept to
which bird and what flower
as if, for a moment, that
right on the verge of knowing were
a kind of knowing. So clouds
have no idea they're
clouds. The almost in us,
billowing.

• • •

snow melting on roof

isn't a halo. Isn't memory really
though in certain places, the shingles
next door — made to look old, that

cobble-looking old — show through
the way forgetfulness clears
for a second, and you're back

on the hospital stairs where
a nurse breaks down in tears,
looks up, startled — who were you

to be there? So much is unexplained.
It's all melting anyway — snow,
the thought of snow, its intrepid

invention: winter, that private
knock-knock no one answers, though
in bad poems, there's always

a voice for it, maybe a low moan.
In truth, it's merely cold
and cloudy — no glitter

off the roof's half snow.
No wind just now: sometimes
the mind stays here.

• • •

drawing, of course

I would draw my cat,
but she'd look back. I would
draw her but she's
way past sleep and sheds her
quiet like tickertape
down the long hallway, talking
cranky and offkey.

Of course, it's winter. I would draw
that, but a pencil isn't
fierce enough for branches stripped
to nothing. To one leaf, which
is as good as nothing. And nothing —
that gift needs invisible ink.

I'd draw the way words feel
in the mouth after too long without
words, or the way the body rises after
hours of dream, gravity
on every bone again, that anchoring
and ache.

Or I wouldn't. Or I couldn't.
Or I'd bury the treasure
in the most obvious place.

• • •

old photographs

take a moment and pretend
it's a life. The happy picnic. The happy
look-at-us amid flowers and soiled napkins.

My friend Joan took a picture once,
three nuns, all strangers in the solid flowing white,
peering into the Grand Canyon, that

astonishing void. I see them
from the back, a hand just so, pointing.
A head tilted. There. And my eye, poor eye,

moves from one to the other to the other,
restless. And pleasure? The canyon's vast
and empty, and endlessly still. And so small,

my looking at their looking.

• • •

no one in the library this early

so it's all sleep, talkative
books silenced by their covers.
And Xerox machines dreaming that
one rare uncopiable thing. And computers
still pinned to their home sites. Gladness is
human: none of that. Neither
is there sorrow, or sweetness, or —
no — no jubilation. And just to invite
tears into this place, one needs a full life
or at least one afternoon,
the traffic blinding someone
driving straight into the sun: Officer,
I just didn't see it. But is it solace?
Here? A quiet, clean corner. A book of poems
no one has touched for ten years. I open it
to the middle, a poem not
particularly good, maybe an afterthought
added the last few hours
before mailing off the manuscript.
Because one line, maybe
that one....

• • •

crossing the street at dawn

or not dawn, not yet. A few cars in the dark.
A young man with a backpack
in front of me. Stars? Too cloudy.
I left my car somewhere.
And walk. Too stiff to walk
this early. And the great university's halls —
looming sturdy as lament.
Across the quad, a door opens and closes.
The street lamps — one must
pass under them: the reverse
of shade. A kind of weird mist,
that light. So I let a pencil
bring it back, writing this by hand,
plain as it was: glowing, uneventful.

• • •

something flashes

in this hollow between buildings. Closer,
a notebook, smallest ambition
of the binding machine, big enough
to reduce the world to faded ink — one bird
and its color, say, someone carefully
writing the date: late winter, early spring.
Or it's just a phone number there,
no name. Mysterious
least of things, stained, open. One page
turning, turned back, this day
in a new century — one hour
or one life. It was mine, I'll say, or
it was yours. What do we call that?
Wind? Was that it?

• • •

really, I remember a window, nothing

special. A young tree flowered
once a year. The flowers pink, or they
were white, the stamens yellow
in the folds. Maybe the green finches

had turned their brilliant gold
by then, hanging funny on the feeder
to earn their thistle, seeds so tiny,
flying out of my hand through the wind —

hardly anything. A slow buzzing
of frogs those springs. At first we thought
insects, the pitch higher
on warm evenings. I know exactly

when it stopped. By June or so, only birds
slowed the twilight, not
many. We sometimes walked then. It was
cooler, the sun out of the world, everyone

tired of the day and what it brought. What did
it bring? I remember only the same things
over and over, the way a song remembers,
coming back like that.


--Marianne Boruch

The Ha-Ha, Part II: I Cry My Heart, Antonio
—at Dal Pescatore, Cannetto sull'Oglio, just outside Mantova



It's just as the waiter has brought us
a single buttery dumpling
stuffed with pecorino, parmigiano, and ricotta

that arrives after the porcini mushrooms
and the seafood risotto
and before the snapper with tomato and black olives

and the duck in balsamic vinegar reduction
that I touch my napkin
to my lips and say, "There are no words to describe this"

and then feel the sting of tears as I remember
where I'd read these words,
in that book about the trial of the English pedophile

and child murderer who delighted in recording
the final moments
of her victims' lives, the screaming, the promises not to tell,

her own tapes used in evidence against her yet thought so horrific
by the judge that
he ordered them played in a sealed courtroom

and then, in the public interest,
to a single journalist
who would only say, "There are no words to describe this."

•

And even though the waiter arrives at that moment
to clear away plates and pour more wine
and ask if everything is good, if it's all to our satisfaction,

still, Barbara bends close to me and asks if everything's okay,
says I seem a little upset,
and I cover by telling her the story that Mark's cousin Antonio

had told me about this prosciutto he'd bought
and had put in his basement
for curing so it would turn salty and sweet and delicate all at once,

but something went wrong, and one day
he went down to check
on his prosciutto, and it was maggot-ridden and moldy,

and here Antonio shakes his head and looks at me
with a sad smile and says,
"I cry my heart, David," and only later do I realize

I've used this story as a ha-ha, which is not a joke but a landscape trick
from 18th-century England,
a sunken fence used to keep cows at a picturesque distance

from the manor house so they can be seen grazing on the greensward,
kept by the ha-ha
from trampling the lawn and mooing at the guests.

•

Your ha-ha, then, is a structure against your chaos.
And your story about Antonio's prosciutto
is thus a structure against your psychological chaos, as the poem

about the meal at Dal Pescatore and the hideously inappropriate memory
and Antonio's prosciutto and the ha-ha
is a further structure against further chaos still.

Or not structure, maybe, but process, like a walk.
There's almost no problem a walk can't solve,
say the walkers, and surely the same is true about poetry and possibly

doubly true when the poem is about walking, as is Campbell McGrath's
"Spring Comes to Chicago," in which
the poet talks about walking around that city with his pregnant wife,

eating pizza in one restaurant and waffles in another and somehow surviving
the Chicago traffic that many do not survive,
for the same walk that can be our best friend can be our worst enemy as well—

while it is indisputably good to go out walking, it is equally indisputable
that we may, in the course of our exercise,
be struck down or otherwise injured, be we in 20th-century Chicago

or 18th-century Durham, where the ha-ha boom waxed and then waned
after Lord Lambton tumbled into his,
climbed out cursing, and had it filled with coal-spoil.

•

When the meal is over, we take a taxi to Piadena and the train
from there to Mantova,
past these little towns, each with its own duomo, great or small,

that bursts from the pavement like Dante's Mount of Paradise,
and while none is so beautiful as the dome
of Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence or so Gothic and spire-studded

as the Milan duomo that seems to be armed against the devil's legions
or as vast as that of St. Peter's in Rome,
the cathedral big enough to brag of its bigness by outlining

on its floor — plenty of opportunities to stumble there! — the plans
of the other, lesser cathedrals,
still, were we to get off the train and walk into one of these little churches,

we'd see it's been built like all the others, its interior looming larger
than its exterior suggests and its vault
painted in the manner of the night sky, because night

is the best time to talk to God, for if Satan and his boys are everywhere,
the rates are cheaper then,
and so we make our way down the aisle, the dark cut only

by candlelight, and figures shuffle in the shadows, though who they are,
we'll never know, and our steps are uncertain,
but over our heads, the sky blazes with promise, and the stars are spinning.

--David Kirby

I was feeling pretty religious
standing on the bridge in my winter coat
looking down at the gray water:
the sharp little waves dusted with snow,
fish in their tin armor.

That's what I like about disappointment:
the way it slows you down,
when the querulous insistent chatter of desire
goes dead calm

and the minor roadside flowers
pronounce their quiet colors,
and the red dirt of the hillside glows.

She played the flute, he played the fiddle
and the moon came up over the barn.
Then he didn't get the job,—
or her father died before she told him
that one, most important thing—

and everything got still.

It was February or October
It was July
I remember it so clear
You don't have to pursue anything ever again
It's over
You're free
You're unemployed

You just have to stand there
looking out on the water
in your trench coat of solitude
with your scarf of resignation
lifting in the wind.

--Tony Hoagland// Disappointment

it's a newspaper tragedy.
Sadness sticks to us, but there's good days in all the mess
Mole4Play: I have no <3 for jackie!
Osh Rules: he licked my butt! i got a rim job from my horse!

You Learn

After A While You Learn....
the subtle difference between holding a hand,
and chaining a soul.
And You Learn...
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't mean security.
And You Begin To Learn...
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises.
And you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead,
with the grace of a woman,
not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After A While You Learn...
That even sunshine burns if you ask too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And You Learn...
that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth.
And You Learn...
And You Learn...
With every goodbye, you learn.

...Author Unknown

Brakingeleven: you rock my socks
Brakingeleven: and it is pretty hard to rock my socks, let me tell u

"otherwise we'd be looking for a book on how to pull quarters out from the labia."

"it seems like we all have tears to shed and this sadness seems so over whelming.
I can't stop these lies from spreading
and all these thoughts keep me from breathing."

Sometimes this sadness takes over us
And we need a little distraction
To forget why things are
And smile that temporary smile

So let me be that distraction
And ease the pain you feel
I’ll keep your thoughts away
From anything that makes you tear

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ectasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.


-From The Invitation
By: Oriah Mountain Dreamer

PAINT BRANCH LITERARY MAGAZINE TAKES TOP HONORS IN AMERICAN SCHOLASTIC PRESS ASSOCIATION ANNUAL COMPETITIONS

The Paint Branch Literary Magazine, Crossroads, won a First Place award in the American Scholastic Press Associations Annual yearbook competition.

In the notification letter, Crossroads was praised for the “tremendous amount of time, energy and talent by writers, artists, editors, photographers, copy editors, layout designers and advisor. We congratulate all on your First Place award!” It continues by saying "'Case Files' [a new addition to the magazine] was a very creative idea!” The magazine was chosen from thousands of submissions from around the country.

Crossroads also won a Silver Medal from Columbia University's School of Journalism CSPA Award.

The theme of the 2003 literary magazine was “Aaperire,” meaning to uncover, open, disclose. Ms. Dina Beatty was the Advisor for the literary magazine and Jackie Russell, the Editor. Ms. Russell is now at the University of Maryland, College Park in the Scholars Program.

Joanne: I am being sexiled from my own single. My bed is getting more action than I am.
Lisa to Katie: You're getting more ass than a toilet seat.

i leave my door unlocked at night
you can pull me out of bed
if you know where and when my classes are
wave at me and I will leave
if im in the potty knock on the door
if im in the shower jump in
basically you have the key to me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEL!!

Colm: You're a one woman orgy.
Mel: you're nipples are going to be so cold.

12 days of christmas

Joanne: Joanne gets emotionally attached. Joanne is not a slut. Joanne puts all of her eggs in one basket. Joanne needs to fuck her basket.
Katie: Fuck the basket.
Joanne: I would like to have communion with the basket rather then fuck the basket.

Joanne: Oh my god. Why do I look like a horse?

Katie: I’m looking at myself. Stop taking it away!

Colm: Oh my god. You look like a five year old whore.

Colm: In exactly 35 minutes you die.

Colm: I want a cape. I just want to wear a cape all the time.

Katie: Fucking what?
Colm: Finger.
Joanne: That’s you’re fucking finger?

Joanne: Fuck you.
Colm: No. Fuck Mark.

Joanne: Katie's name actually means dirty as snow that has been peed on
Monika: youre the only NONvirgin here

Joanne: I love Katie. I want Katie to bear my children when that’s invented.

PizzaJunkie18: Katie(95) Greek Female Form of KATHERINE. Pure, Virginal (much laughter followed when this was said aloud to the room)

Monika: I just like rubbing heads, if you can’t tell

Joanne: Wow. Its just like being blond!

Katie: I want to be coated in chocolate. Like an easter bunny but not hollow.

From the sky
the flakes fall,
reflecting
in your eyes
the time
that continues to go by.
and though
I feel
empty inside
and the cold
keeps my heart
warm,
which comforts me,
I'm still wearing
tears
in my eyes.

guitarwomyn: do you know what's super cool?
Seasickmnky: what???
guitarwomyn: stars... they're all like "look we're shiny and bright, come and play with us!" and then it's like you go play with them but AHHHH you touch them and you combust.

mel and I on third nipples:
guitarwomyn: if i did i'd definitely pierce it
Seasickmnky: nice. that would be hot

guitarwomyn: showering together is going to be so much more fun
Seasickmnky: I know. it shall be like peeing with you!

brakingeleven: a day without sex is like a day without sun... sadly, switzerland's days are dark and dreary

A dragonfly has a life span of 24 hours.
The squirrel monkey's brain accounts for roughly 5 percent of its body weight - the largest percentage of any other animal. The human brain, by comparison, makes up about 2.3 percent of body weight.
Castrated men live an average of 13 years longer than those not castrated.
The opposite of "cross-eyed" is "wall-eyed."
One out of every two hundred women is endowed with an extra nipple.
do you suffer from 'dasypygal'?

Seasickmnky: I spit in your orange juice
Mole4Play: oh god
Mole4Play: OH DEAR GOD NO!
Seasickmnky: Do you have mono?
Mole4Play: not as far as I know
Seasickmnky: that is what you should be asking your self
Mole4Play: oh my god
Mole4Play: I hate all of you
Mole4Play: thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much

SCAVENGER HUNT!
go find these and bring them back to me.
· Puppy
· Comb
· Banana
· Pencil
· Crab
· Radio
· Toilet paper dowel
· Stick
· Monkey
· Notebook
· Remote control
· Irish guy in Elkton
· Blue boxers
· Shoe laces
· A Picture of Johnny Depp
· Dustbuster
· Tennis ball
· Needlenose pliers
· Mikey
· Rubik's cube
· Condom
· Spork
· Frisbee
· Apple
· Pizza box
· Cookie
· Orange BIC lighter
· Cluck-U menu
· Movie ticket stub
· 6-inch ruler
we did it!!!

Jackie: He's so tall he has to duck.
Katie: That's weird, ducks aren't that tall.

"To live is to strive to become as 'skilled' as Carlita"
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
really? because sometimes I don't think they do. How can you live. I mean REALLY live when everything is planned out for you. when your life is a cycle and the only thing you know for ceratin is that your going to die. how is that living?

And I've got scars I'm willing to show you,
you had heart that I'll never see,
she had answers to all the wrong questions,
It's funny these answers are all that I need.
- - It's crazy the things we made in the sky.
So picture me drowning,
pretending I'm happy,
we end up regreting the things..
We don't try. - - Here with my problems
I don't need the light,
they're bigger than darkness and darker than night.
I leave on a promise of something that shines,
perfection aint perfect
a leaver will find. I find this all the time

I miss you when I'm sad. I miss you when I'm lonely. But most of all, I miss you when I'm happy.
"If you live one hundred years then I want to live one hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you."

I would just like to say that I have some of the best friends ever. I <3 you guys. thanks for the puppet show. Definitly one of the best gifts I've ever gotten. and the flower pot. : )


Lisa is amusing....
- They we're just trying to be proud of thier genatalia.
- It smells like buring.
- E-money is going to get a punch in the face

"When was it that you lost your youth or traded
It for something more for them to use so jaded
Why is it that you never said
I love you more than just a friend
I pray this gridlock never ends
And when we get there just depends
I found out recently that you are leaving
For good I hope I softly tell my ceiling
It's better now to be alive
Sleeping is my 9 to 5
I'm having nightmares all the time
Of running out of words that rhyme
Everything that you could never say
Would never matter anyway
I took a hammer and two nails to my eardrums long ago
Before that steak knife took my eyes
I looked up to the sky
For the last thing I would ever see
For the last time I'd cry" - Alkaline Trio

I hate you this much

<3

butt. hole.
awesome view
old ladies. ow ow.
peeing off bridges
girl talk
sir, dictator sir. Lisa and Joanne are stupid.
truth or dare...
battle scars
I LOVED CAMPING with awesome people!

I pride myself on being someone who regrets nothing. And you know what? I've been pretty good at that. except for one thing. The one person I have ever loved, I never had the guts to tell him that I loved him. and now he's gone and i'm gone. so don't make the same mistake as me. when you love someone, tell them. don't let them get away. live with no regrets.

SayItAintSo33: you know you are a dendrophiliac
SayItAintSo33: its ok
SayItAintSo33: as long as you don't hurt yourself in the process

Brakingeleven: ahhhhhhh! i'm 43% gay

Me: rubbing nose with middle finger
Jo: What do I have something on my nose?
Mel: She's giving you the middle finger

I am someone who:
seasickmnky: blushes at a compliment
seasickmnky: will ask a stranger for directions
seasickmnky: stops to smell the flowers
seasickmnky: daydreams a lot
seasickmnky: likes thunderstorms

bluerunawaydog: listens to music full blast
bluerunawaydog: cries at movies
bluerunawaydog: likes thunderstorms
bluerunawaydog: yells at the umpire
bluerunawaydog:reads comics before the front page :D

Brakingeleven: asks a stranger for directions
Brakingeleven: goes to bed early
Brakingeleven: sleeps until the last second
Brakingeleven: likes thunderstorms
Brakingeleven: loves crosswords

tRaJiC SmERF: listens to music full blast
tRaJiC SmERF: likes thunderstorms
tRaJiC SmERF: is afraid of the dark
tRaJiC SmERF: plays the guitar
tRaJiC SmERF: wont use a portable toilet

PizzaJunkie18: would go on a blind date
PizzaJunkie18: listens to music full blast
PizzaJunkie18: likes thunderstorms
PizzaJunkie18: sleeps until the last second
PizzaJunkie18: reads comics before the front page

ten LE GRRR ten: listens to music full blast
ten LE GRRR ten: daydreams a lot
ten LE GRRR ten: likes thunderstorms
ten LE GRRR ten: would go on a blind date
ten LE GRRR ten: sleeps until the last second

SayItAintSo33: blushes at a compliment
SayItAintSo33: daydreams a lot
SayItAintSo33: will ask a stranger for directions
SayItAintSo33: sleeps with a teddy bear
SayItAintSo33: likes to play practical jokes

PerfectFlaw17: blushes at a compliment
PerfectFlaw17: sings in the shower
PerfectFlaw17: listens to music full blast
PerfectFlaw17: daydreams alot
PerfectFlaw17: plays guitar

LadyRepublica: would go on a blind date
LadyRepublica: talks to plants
LadyRepublica: sleeps till the last second
LadyRepublica: sleeps with a teddy bear
LadyRepublica: likes to play practical jokes

mark five things that describe you.

I am someone who:
1 blushes at a compliment
2 would go on a blind date
3 sings in the shower
4 slurps my soup
5 listens to music full blast
6 likes to dance
7 cries at movies
8 stops to smell the flowers
9 daydreams a lot
10 has placed a personal ad
11 wont use a portable toilet
12 likes thunderstorms
13 enjoys romance novels
14 loves crossword puzzles
15 hates flying
16 has a black belt
17 watches soap operas
18 is afraid of the dark
19 goes to bed early
20 plays the guitar
21 talks to plants
22 sleeps until the last second
23 will ask a stranger for directions
24 yells at the umpire
25 loves to play tennis
26 makes a "to do" list every morning
27 sleeps with a teddy bear
28 tells a friend they have bad breath
29 likes to play practical jokes
30 reads comics before the front page

maybe I would tell you where I was but it seems it always gets ruined. I'm left with no choice but to become secretive.

How can I make myself happy when I can't even make you smile?
Don't read into this as being more then it really is because I don't want you to feel for me. You don't need that kind of stress in you life.

In the early morning a the smell of boys and farm mix togther and waft through the open window and for some reason its comforting.

silly kids and thier silly dreams of becoming something better...

Monika:"You're not just a slut, you're my favorite slut."
Me: "We are not naming my boobs Thelma and Louis."

EL CAPITANNN!

Happy Halloween!! Come visit our hot floor

ShinyCube7: ScarletP5: oh ok
ShinyCube7: it spreads again!!!
ShinyCube7: I never noticed this until you told me about the ryan disease
ShinyCube7: ThisWouldBeMark: oh ok
ShinyCube7: AHHHHH!!!
------------------------------------------------

ShinyCube7: it spreads!!!
ShinyCube7: lankasky: oh ok
ShinyCube7: the ryan disease

I'm telling you...that boy is contagious

"When I wake up alone, the shades are still drawn on the cold window pane so they cast their lines on my bed and lines on my face."

People like you amuse me. and when I say people like you, I mean people like us.

Happiness is like peeing in your pants. Others can see it, but only you can feel it.

This place of solitude is quite and dark. and I have no reason not to love being alone.

"What difference is there between us, save a restless dream that follows my soul but fears to come near you?"
-Kahlil Gibran

"The most wasted day of all is that during which we have not laughed." -Sebastian R. N. Chamfort

Young man to Dorothy Parker: "I can't bear fools."
Dorothy Parker to young man: "Funny, your mother could."

"and at night walking the streets for
hours,
the moonlight always seemed fake
to me, maybe it was" - Young in New Orleans

"Look at him, a rhinestone in the rough." - Dorthy Parker

And maybe I'd share my insides with you but I don't think I can trust you with the remains of my glass heart.

I do not know why It never occurred to me before but I think that I see something in your eyes that is eager to be released.

tenLEGRRRten: DAAAAAAAASANI
Seasickmnky: loser
tenLEGRRRten: ....i know :-(
Seasickmnky: I still love you
tenLEGRRRten: :-D
tenLEGRRRten: ...wait you're lying
tenLEGRRRten: ...shutup
Seasickmnky: No I really do. I want to have your babies
tenLEGRRRten: YAY
---
tenLEGRRRten: fuck you bitch, get offa your knees and stop tryin to blow me.
...
tenLEGRRRten: i should buy you some kneepads for your birthday ho
---
Seasickmnky: I should buy you some condems. I'm tired of hearing about all your abortions...
tenLEGRRRten: well i just go through them so damn fast
Seasickmnky: mating like fucking bunnies

"Theres a beautiful sky tonight and if you were by my side then we could share it but you are gone. So come at me with your moon and burn me in the stars cause nothing matters anymore. If I could only see you now for about an hour maybe just a minute just to ask What has he got that I don't have? Is it his brown eyes? I know blue eyes get boring but I'll wear dark glasses all the time and hey if you want me to, I'll take a knife to my own bright eyes." - Saves The Day/ <strong>Sell my old clothes, I'm going to heaven
"O Alcohol, would you please forgive me? For while I cannot love myself I'll use something else I thought that Alcohol was just for those with nothing else to do I thought that drinking just to get drunk was a waste of precious booze But now I know that there's a time and there's a place where I can choose To walk the fine line between self-control and self-abuse"- Bare Naked Ladies/alcohol

Joanne: You know, condoms can be used for other things besides sex. Like condom water balloons. The best is when you fill them up and they're all rainbow colorered.

"So, my little Amélie, you don't have bones of glass. You can take life's knocks. If you let this chance pass, eventually, your heart will become as dry and brittle as my skeleton. So, go to him, dammit!" - Raymond Dufayel aka Glass Man

I want to know what goes through your head. I can see your brain processing things. I just can't read what is saids.

Kevin: You're difficult
Me: I'm not difficult. I'm easy.

Joel: I'm trying to grow out my beard
Me: I know girls whose facial hair grows faster

Me: What Kind of humor is this?
AstroMike: Funny humor.

Me:I want to get drunk.
You should want to get me drunk.
So we could like, want to get me drunk together.

"It was one of those moments that lives in your mind forever, like when the elementary school band teacher first shows you the correct method for blowing a trumpet, but without a trumpet." - TheEyebrow

"i want so badly to believe that there is truth, and love is real..."

Seasickmnky: I just realized that everyone is going to turn 21 and be able to go to the bars and I will be all by myself.
tenLEGRRRten: yes i shall be the alcoholic calling you and asking you why you're not there..
tenLEGRRRten: and then i'll go... OH YEAH YOU'RE NOT TWENTY ONE HAHAHAHAH

One of the more amusing spams:
Grow your pee-pee like a cheetah pet

Matt: It seems our mascot is homosexual.
Nonastro Mike: It would seem that way.

"Some day will find it,
the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me"
-Kermit the Frog

love is cute

the Ryan disease is spreading to people he doesn't even know
LadyRepublica: oh
LadyRepublica: ok
PerfectFlaw17: oh ok

hyperkid876: i think we would make a great couple
hyperkid876: but then you would have to get rid of all of your manwhores
hyperkid876: im just not sure if i should say this to you, sooo many ppl have warned me about you. they say that you are a sex fiend and will toy with someones emotions because you know they want you
hyperkid876: is that true jackie, are you a tawdry sex kitten?

Be the kind of person who doesnt need someone else to live
love is the cutest thing ever

Im glad there are still guys who make me believe in chivalry

I can never tell when to be serious with you
So I'll be lame and post it here. Maybe one day I'll tell you or you'll read this and then I'd know...

Your hard to figure out because at some instances you are secure with yourself and fun. You don't care what people think. Yet at others you care and sensor who you are. You don't let people know what your really thinking. Thus the difficulty. Its not a bad thing. Just gives you an air of uncertainty. Maybe we just don't know you well enough? Who knows...

Love is not something that you can put chains on and throw into a lake Thats called Houdini Love is liking someone a lot

"Ive never been the praying kind
But lately Ive been down upon my knees
Not looking for a miracle
Just a reason to believe
I might need you to hold me tonight
I might need you to say its alright
I might need you to make the first stand"

I love the colorful clothes she wears
And the way the sunlight plays upon her hair
I hear the sound of a gentle word
On the wind that lifts her perfume through the air
Im pickin up good vibrations
Shes giving me excitations
I'm pickin up good vibrations Beach Boys

This is gonna sound a little impulsive
This is gonna sound a little insane
I know you dont know me yet
But you and I we will be together someday

There used to be a time
When youre the only one
That you could see
You built a wall to keep you free
You saw it all so perfectly
You divided everything
You had into a thousand parts or names
It made it easier to place the blame
But it never really was the same
But you forgot the reason why
You had to be alone to breathe
Something from your history
Or have you lost your memory
But now it seems your baggage
Is the only thing than you can bring
You had a lie for everything
And now your world is crumbling
- -You used to think that
You would never be alone
But you're losing control
You find it hard to see at all
To find your way back
- -You had a lie for everything
Or were you ever really listening
Dishwalla

No matter what I say, I will always care.
There is no way I can't.
No matter how cocky I act.
Or how confidente,
I am still the quiet insecure girl.
I wish I didn't care but in a sense everyone does.
In a sense, everyone wants to be accepted.
It just depends on who I want to be accepted by.

i wanna make you smile
whenever you're sad
carry you around when your arthritis is bad
all i wanna do, is grow old with you
I'll get you medicine when your tummy aches
Build you a fire if the furnace breaks
So, it could be so nice growing old with you
I'll miss you Kiss you
Give you my coat when you are cold
Need you Feed you
Even let you hold the remote control
So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink
Put you to bed when you've had too much to drink
Oh I could be the man that grows old with you
I wanna grow old with you. - Adam Sandler in The Wedding Singer

Kermit The Frog - The Rainbow Connection Lyrics: "Why are there so many
Songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side
Rainbow's are visions
They're only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide
So we've been told and some chose to
Believe it
But I know they're wrong wait and see

Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

Who said that every wish
Would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star
Somebody thought of that
And someone believed it
And look what it's done so far
What's so amazing
That keeps us star gazing
What so we think we might see

Someday we'll find it
That Rainbow Connection
The lovers the dreamers and me

Have you been half asleep
And have you heard voices
I've heard them calling my name
Are these the sweet sounds that called
The young sailors
I think they're one and the same
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
There's something that I'm supposed to be

Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me"

I remember everything.
I can't believe how much I can hold.
Bottled up so tight inside.
I can't tell anyone anything.
Everyone makes me think too much.

Oh alcohol
Would you please forgive
For while I cannot love myself
I'll use something else
I thought that alcohol
Was just for those with nothing else to do
I thought that drinking just to get drunk
Was a waste of precious booze
But now I know that there's
A time and theres a place where I can choose
To walk the fine line between self-control and self-abuse
-Bare Naked Ladies/ alcohol