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+--- Thread: A Monday Thought.... (/showthread.php?tid=3025)
A Monday Thought.... - Rooner - 04-13-2004
As a Scot and Presbyterian, my father believed that man by nature was a mess and had fallen from an original state of grace. Somehow, I developed an early notion that he had done this by fallen from a tree. As for my father, I never knew whether he believed God was a mathematician but he certainly believed God could count and that only by picking up God's rhythms were we able to regain power and beauty
A Monday Thought.... - JimmyBlueEyes - 04-13-2004
Quote:Originally posted by Topper Harley
My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a 15 year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims, like he invented the question mark. Sometimes, he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy - the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring, we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds. Pretty standard, really.
What about your first scribe at the age of 12??
A Monday Thought.... - Black Lazerus - 04-13-2004
"Very well, where do I begin?
My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy...the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess in the insane lament. My childhood was typical...summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds...pretty standard, really. At the age of twelve, I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum...it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it."
A Monday Thought.... - Keyser Soze - 04-13-2004
thanks, the shaved scrotum is my favorite part!