and my most unforgivable exception—A Canticle For Leibowitz
and my most unforgivable exception—A Canticle For Leibowitz
Farnam’s (sic) Freehold
And upon reflection—Fail-Safe, Red Alert, Warday
In my early 30's I had a debauch that lasted only a season, but cost me the house on Puget Sound, my excellent constitution, my mental composition, my successful and suitable business, all of my money, the great part of my good reputation, and the six year relationship with a decent, complaisant, intelligent,…
You left out Alas, Babylon.
Welp—we’re boned. Guess the Fermi Paradox is to be untangled in short order—at least insofar as h. sapiens sapiens goes.
Is 24 y.o. Boog the son or grandson of The Mighty One who labored long for the Charm City Birds, who is ever enshrined in memory, as much for his heroic girth as for his puissant cuts?
It doesn’t fucking BEG another or any other kind of fucking QUESTION.
I am proud to stand by your side.
what a lovely compliment
Had it years ago. The (a?) prodromal symptom is loss of hearing in one ear.
Right on all four corners.
And we are even now being entertained with Senate BS about a much worse person by any measure—J.B. Sessions. Trump attacks one of their lunch buddies, and this finally galvanized R’s to throw down a gauntlet, and even D’s are celebrating him as a model of probity, honesty, twinkling hobbit eyes, whatever the fuck—he…
I am 67 and my memory stretches back to the Cuban Missile Crisis, during which I was 12—and I fully understood the implications thereof. Furthermore, the threat of nuclear holocaust was always a significant factor in the decisions I made insofar as how to direct my life. I believed the odds had it that I wouldn’t live…
He’d hide in a coat closet if confronted by an enraged chipmunk. I could carve a better man out of a bar of soap.
imagine what that painting up in her attic is looking like these days
I guess you say/what can make me feel this way...
a human trafficking operation gone horribly wrong
All of this gum-beating about counterfactuals goes nowhere.
I ask again—but no, I’m now pleading, beseeching, imploring, begging—please please with fucking pretty pink sugar on it: all must stop calling FM...