All Blog Posts : 20343
That's a decent library.
Don’t “X” Out “Ex!”
existentialism, ex post facto, extraterritorial extraterrestrial: today's question(s) Why did Space X bring back down two, not three rockets ): why not three?#3):curious if Mr. Musk installed a roll bar in the convertible #4): am I the only one who thinks of hashish when I hear hash tag?
Mine own blirtatious* supposition with all due respect would have been for a Smart Car inherent with a 'circular piano' inside the steeringwheel. Less weight. Better sound. Hypothetically less fury.
Took me 10 minutes to type through the comment, Phyllis. Didn't realize you (though always on my mind---read your most recent from the get go---) were here. I am on your side. And I was going to quote something to do with that truly great Chris Rock routine, wherein he gets angry about how nothings ever cured. (pause) Heartfelt godspeed to all your angst y aspirations; right now (for me) it's either Kathmandu or the Vatican Observatory. Perhaps balm in sauna?
Thank you Phyllis! When all is said and done, let's have some fun!
If we type we exist.
And no, you're not the only one who thinks of hashish when you hear #hashtag : ) or at least when I first started hearing it.
....and then suddenly time swirls and I'm wedged in between tons of people in the back of the Camaro in the back of Chastain Park in high school while all the boys pass around the craziest smelling joint.... my first scent of the world of hash. (hash was not ever my thing, btw.....I just liked pot. had *no* idea what I was getting into toking on that hash... : ))
I vote for an ancient - amusing - drug stories open call. current stories would be depressing but ancient stories? ..... or is everyone on this site just drinkers.
(I didn't type in italics.... ??)
and the race would already be won, if it weren't for the camel dung? CDC in the land of the free. You got me recollecting way-way-way back when as a buddin' gonzoist otr toward an assemblage of radical priests who do I encounter: none other than the great Father Groppi. Too late in the evening for my opaque shades and he started: "What's that in your hand?" I put the seagar behind me and we shook hands right there on that bike path in Cherry Park, God Bless you & God Bless you Fodder! Maybe it was less than a decade post-King riots . . . yeah it was deep in the '77, nearly forever after the eagle had landed, we walked and talked a precious while, full stride over the hill
Angst makes great art. :)
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