Bush said today, “I know we’re going to succeed [in Iraq] if we don’t lose our will.”
As Swopa of Needlenose points out in comments on my last post, Bolivian President Morales punked, as the kids say, Condi, presenting her with a charango (Andean stringed instrument) with coca-leaf inlay.
Needlenose has a caption contest. Wonder what Morales was on when he came up with the idea of pulling a practical joke on a woman with no sense of humor. Probably the same substance that inspired land-locked Bolivia to establish a navy.
A NYT editorial Wednesday had a rather good headline. About the innocent people incarcerated in Guantanamo, it was called “They Came for the Chicken Farmer.”
Vicious turd Slobodan Milosevic has died. Unlike, say, Hitler, it was never clear that Milosevic actually believed in the racist aggressive nationalism he utilized after the Communist Party of Yugoslavia ceased to provide a viable career path. Is that better or worse?
Some more personals from the London Review of Books (LRB). As always, the complete collection of my favorites is available here.
The uncomfortable mantle of guilt, the heavy cloak of ignominy, the coarse socks of denial, the iridescent trousers of doubt, the belligerent underpants of self-loathing. All worn by the haberdasher of shame (M, 34, Pembs.). Seeks woman in possession of the Easy-Up iron-on hem of redemption and some knowledge of workaday delicates. No loons. Box no. 05.06The actual advertiser above that one:
146 is not only my IQ but also my waist size in centimetres. Lecturer in advanced maths and Mensa bore, 51. Bit of a porker but willing to low-carb for at least a fortnight for the right woman (pastry chef and trigonometry fetishist to 50). Box no. 05/09
I know more languages than the advertiser above. And I’ve been to jail fewer times. In his favour, I guess his mother doesn’t make his lovers sign a guestbook on their way out but two out of three ain’t bad, to quote both Meatloaf and my solicitor. Man, 45. Box no. 05/12
In the circus of life, I’m its very willing clown. You probably serve donuts in a kiosk outside. We could never have any life together, but sometimes a clown just needs donuts. Possibly coffee. Clown (M, 51), seeks F donut seller for donuts, possibly coffee. Box no. 05/11
This column is a ziggurat of heartache and I am its High Priest. Pork Belly-Eating Champion, Stroud, 1981 (M, 47). Box no. 04/06
Male otolarynologist (39) seeks woman with normal-shaped head. Box no. 04/07
To some, I am a world of temptation. To others, I’m just another cross-dressing pharmacist. M, 41. Box no. 04/08
What is your favourite preserved body part? Mine is the diseased bladder of Italian biologist, Lazzaro Spallanzani (currently on display in the Scarpa Room in the University of Pavia). This, and many more conversation killers available from librarian and failed travel agent F, 32, Northampton. Box no. 04/10
I’ve been using Vicks Vaporub for two years solid. What do you think about that? M, 58. Box no. 04/11
During intercourse, I can list Brian Eno’s ten favourite books in reverse order. Most women, however, only let me get to number 7 (Grooming, Gossip and the Evolution of Language – Robin Fox). M, 34, WLTM woman to 35 willing to let me get to at least number 3 (The Evolution of Cooperation – Robert Axelrod). Box no. 04/12
No comments:
New comments are not allowed.