Mix-a-Lot also briefly touches upon the roles that ethnicity, nutrition, and physical fitness play in determining the shape and size of the female buttocks. He recommends that any exercises performed should be limited to the abdominal area. He cautions against a fitness routine strenuous enough to diminish the heft of the gluteal muscles. Though he offers no broad dietary guidelines, Mix-a-Lot contends that the dish "red beans and rice" is an important food staple for maintaining healthy buttocks.
then you've come to the right place.
Culturally and Musically speaking, there are times I feel like I live in the wrong century. But the Internet more than makes up for it all with its never-ending supply of humor.
The goal of Project Pterosaur is to mount an expedition to locate and bring back to the United States living specimens of pterosaurs or their fertile eggs, which will be displayed in a Pterosaur Rookery that will be the center piece of the planned Fellowship Creation Science Museum and Research Institute (FCSMRI). Furthermore, the rookery facility will establish a breeding colony of pterosaurs in order to produce specimens that could then be put on display by other regional institutions or church groups.
I stole this from Ed Gonzales who put up this clip from Steve Farber's blog:
Actually, I do believe there are other uses for these terms. For instance, when I say "you know" or "you know what I'm saying," I'm searching the face of the person I'm conversing with, seeking to see whether they understand and/or agree. If not, I'll rephrase the statement. And I use "like" more than I should, but it is often instead of "for instance," "nearly," "almost," "resembling somewhat" or "approximately." It's like, kinda the same thing. You know? No. Okay, let me put it another way...
I also use it instead of "uh" as a time filler in my sentences. As I'm searching for the words to say exactly what I mean, I say "like." It is no better, possibly worse than "uh." But I do it. When I haven't started speaking yet, I say "How shall I phrase this?" This drives some people crazy. But then, if I say nothing as I'm thinking of exactly how to phrase it, they generally assume that I'm going to say something bad or negative.
My father uses "and" repeatedly as a time filler. I do wonder if he does it for the same reasons as me. Then again, I've never asked. Maybe I should.
I don't speak at the same rate at which I think. I do read at that speed, which tends to make people assume I'm lying, speed-reading, or skimming. I usually think very, very fast, and on multiple topics at once. This makes it somewhat difficult to converse, as I'm probably finished with one thought and on another entirely by the time I finish a sentence. I have to keep circling back to the sentence in my head.
This sometimes. Leads to strange. Almost... Shatner-like rhythms. Inmyspeechpatterns.
I've never really done a great deal of public speaking. I wonder sometimes if I'd be any good at it, or terrible! I don't get stage fright at all, and I don't get nervous. Those are usually the main liabilities for public speakers. But I come with (probably unique) liabilities of my own!
Speech is a very, very fascinating thing. On the one hand, it must evolve. On the other, some branches of evolution should not be protected as endangered, but merely allowed to die. Like the dinosaurs, or the woolly mammoth, or "Ebonics." You know?
The best video ever is of course the literal version of "Total Eclipse of the Heart."
It's no secret that Muse is one of my favorite two bands (the Eagles being the other). But then I saw the video to "Knights of Cydonia," and it made my Muselove that much more intense.
A man seeking to join a Texas Sheriff's Department is being interviewed.
The Deputy doing the interview says: "Your qualifications all look good, but there is an attitude suitability test that you must take before you can be accepted."
Then, sliding a service pistol across the desk, he says: "Take this pistol and go out and shoot six illegal aliens, six ACLU lawyers, six meth dealers, six Muslim extremists, and a rabbit."
"Why the rabbit?"
"So much for the attitude test," says the Sergeant. "When can you start?"
I don't remember if I've written about this here, or just conversed with friends about it. I'd made the observation that literature by men tends to be about doing, while literature by women tends to be about simply being. For instance, a fantasy fiction book by a man tends to delve into wish fulfillment about the main character going and doing great things to prove his/her worth, and rising through society as a result of his/her accomplishments. Fantasy fiction books by women are more likely to focus on the main character being recognized for how wonderful/brilliant/beautiful he/she is, without actually doing anything to deserve said praise, other than existing.
Think "Harry Potter" vs. "The Hobbit."
Anyway, I came across this, and had to include it. It's real - been vetted by Snopes as much as anything on the 'net can be. And I know it's made its way around, but I'm just now coming across it!
English 44A, SMU, Creative Writing, Prof. Miller.
In-class Assignment for Wednesday:"Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."
"The following was actually turned in by two of my English students: Rebecca - last name deleted, and Gary - last name deleted."
_____ STORY: (first paragraph by Rebecca) ________
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and acros sthe cockpit.
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4."Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth -- when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race.Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent,chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.
Asshole.
Bitch.
Honestly, I think this would've gone on to make a great story. But maybe I'm a little warped!
