I received a comment worth commenting on today: nice post. I would love to follow you on twitter. The appreciative glint brought on by her first sentence was arrow-pierced and sword-beheaded by her last...creating in me a supernova-dwarfing impulse to verbally pummel a portion of Donnie Darko dinnertime conversation into the anonymous ingénue.
Maybe her comment was an attempt at irony (the 140 character-thing). Although I'm proud of the chapter upon which I received this comment-l'exaspérant, it's not short (coming within hand-grenade range of 1,200 words). It could also be that this néophyte had yet to read my previously written thoughts on the ridiculous fad.
This bit of artistic expression should clarify my position on the twitter matter.
(I realize my anonymous twitter-friendly commenter may be male, because some gay men do tweet—but, if that's the case, he'd be ok with my feminine pronoun usage.)
Thirst will parch your tongue and your body will waste through lack of sleep ere you can describe in words that which painting instantly sets before the eye. — Leonardo da Vinci
Pogo - Alice
The color of the object illuminated partakes of the color of that which illuminates it. — Leonardo da Vinci
'Til ya drop from muscle fatigue
I got my exercise today by pushing 250 pounds (114kg) of groceries around Costco for over an hour. For those unfamiliar with this wholesale retailer, it's a quantity-not-quality store (think IKEA for food and sundries). Need a gallon of Mayonnaise or a 50 pound (23Kg) bag of rice? Costco is the place to go.
I pushed the cart at Costco today, because my paramour cringes when she looks at the receipt after I shop. If I buy groceries, (and I never go to Costco) I select items based on: my personal tastes and item-quality (which I admit, I can't always clearly explain).
For example, I buy only organic milk even though it costs almost double. Why? She asks. Because I refuse to drink milk from a container bearing the disclaimer: The FDA has determined there is no significant difference between milk derived from hormone-treated and non-hormone-treated cows. If they need a disclaimer, I don't want to consume it on a daily basis.
I prefer brown free-range eggs. Yes, they taste exactly the same as the white ones that drop through the bars of a cage; but my brain says they look and sound better no matter what my stomach says.
European butter, imported from Ireland or some-such far-away land, is the only butter I'll buy. My tongue can definitely tell the difference (and don't even consider trying to get me to use a tub of whipped oil, because I can definitely believe it's not butter!).
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate some of the bulk items available at Costco. My cats never complain about the cheap clay they cover their shit with. A gross of Toilet paper rolls or a double-peck of bread (which can be frozen for a few months) makes financial sense. Whatever Ok, I get it.
But something I realized about Costco—which occurred to me today—was if you are low on money, on a fixed income, or unemployed: definitely become a Costco member. Go daily for lunch or dinner. Take your entire family. Put an item or two in your cart (there's bound to be something you need). Stop at each of the different "tasting booths" scattered throughout the store and eat what they offer. (The primary function of a "Tasting booth" is generating a continuous effluence of "pleasant cooking odors." The type of odors which make you hungry. Hungry people buy more groceries. So, don't think you are taking advantage—even if you fill your gut at the "tasting booths" every day for months and years—because they are trying to take advantage of you!) Wanna try a small slice of pizza?... eat some roasted almonds?... taste a four-cheese ravioli?... sample some spicy sausage? Before you know it, you and yours will be too full from eating the residue from the pleasant cooking odor stations to want the foot-long/drink combo (available for a dollar-fifty at the food concession on your way out).
The truth of things is the chief nutriment of superior intellects. — Leonardo da Vinci
I pushed the cart at Costco today, because my paramour cringes when she looks at the receipt after I shop. If I buy groceries, (and I never go to Costco) I select items based on: my personal tastes and item-quality (which I admit, I can't always clearly explain).
For example, I buy only organic milk even though it costs almost double. Why? She asks. Because I refuse to drink milk from a container bearing the disclaimer: The FDA has determined there is no significant difference between milk derived from hormone-treated and non-hormone-treated cows. If they need a disclaimer, I don't want to consume it on a daily basis.
I prefer brown free-range eggs. Yes, they taste exactly the same as the white ones that drop through the bars of a cage; but my brain says they look and sound better no matter what my stomach says.
European butter, imported from Ireland or some-such far-away land, is the only butter I'll buy. My tongue can definitely tell the difference (and don't even consider trying to get me to use a tub of whipped oil, because I can definitely believe it's not butter!).
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate some of the bulk items available at Costco. My cats never complain about the cheap clay they cover their shit with. A gross of Toilet paper rolls or a double-peck of bread (which can be frozen for a few months) makes financial sense. Whatever Ok, I get it.
But something I realized about Costco—which occurred to me today—was if you are low on money, on a fixed income, or unemployed: definitely become a Costco member. Go daily for lunch or dinner. Take your entire family. Put an item or two in your cart (there's bound to be something you need). Stop at each of the different "tasting booths" scattered throughout the store and eat what they offer. (The primary function of a "Tasting booth" is generating a continuous effluence of "pleasant cooking odors." The type of odors which make you hungry. Hungry people buy more groceries. So, don't think you are taking advantage—even if you fill your gut at the "tasting booths" every day for months and years—because they are trying to take advantage of you!) Wanna try a small slice of pizza?... eat some roasted almonds?... taste a four-cheese ravioli?... sample some spicy sausage? Before you know it, you and yours will be too full from eating the residue from the pleasant cooking odor stations to want the foot-long/drink combo (available for a dollar-fifty at the food concession on your way out).
The truth of things is the chief nutriment of superior intellects. — Leonardo da Vinci
unfurled hypnagogic logic
Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen. — Leonardo da Vinci (1452 – 1519)
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