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!@#$%! · 06.16.2006, 01:55 PM

Don't forget. It's June 16.

Now go & read some Ulysses & get drunk on Irish porter.

This is an order from high above, therefore it must be followed to the last letter. Or you'll be cursed with a colonic infestation by spiders.
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a favorite sample:

MR LEOPOLD BLOOM ATE WITH RELISH THE INNER ORGANS OF BEASTS and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liver slices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencod's roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine.

Kidneys were in his mind as he moved about the kitchen softly, righting her breakfast things on the humpy tray. Gelid light and air were in the kitchen but out of doors gentle summer morning everywhere. Made him feel a bit peckish.

The coals were reddening.

Another slice of bread and butter: three, four: right. She didn't like her plate full. Right. He turned from the tray, lifted the kettle off the hob and set it sideways on the fire. It sat there, dull and squat, its spout stuck out. Cup of tea soon. Good. Mouth dry. The cat walked stiffly round a leg of the table with tail on high.

-- Mkgnao!

-- O, there you are, Mr Bloom said, turning from the fire.

The cat mewed in answer and stalked again stiffly round a leg of the table, mewing. Just how she stalks over my writing-table. Prr. Scratch my head. Prr.

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if you are too materially or spiritually deprived to own the book (not depraved, deprived-- if you're deprived you wish you were depraved...) you can find it here.

06.16.2006, 01:55 PM	#1
!@#$%! invito al cielo Join Date: Mar 2006 Location: mars attacks Posts: 42,460	Don't forget. It's June 16. Now go & read some Ulysses & get drunk on Irish porter. This is an order from high above, therefore it must be followed to the last letter. Or you'll be cursed with a colonic infestation by spiders. ---------- a favorite sample: MR LEOPOLD BLOOM ATE WITH RELISH THE INNER ORGANS OF BEASTS and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liver slices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencod's roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine. Kidneys were in his mind as he moved about the kitchen softly, righting her breakfast things on the humpy tray. Gelid light and air were in the kitchen but out of doors gentle summer morning everywhere. Made him feel a bit peckish. The coals were reddening. Another slice of bread and butter: three, four: right. She didn't like her plate full. Right. He turned from the tray, lifted the kettle off the hob and set it sideways on the fire. It sat there, dull and squat, its spout stuck out. Cup of tea soon. Good. Mouth dry. The cat walked stiffly round a leg of the table with tail on high. -- Mkgnao! -- O, there you are, Mr Bloom said, turning from the fire. The cat mewed in answer and stalked again stiffly round a leg of the table, mewing. Just how she stalks over my writing-table. Prr. Scratch my head. Prr. ----------- if you are too materially or spiritually deprived to own the book (not depraved, deprived-- if you're deprived you wish you were depraved...) you can find it here.
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