February 14, 2008
Happy Valentine's Day.
No more the Lupercalion feast, with all its pagan rites.
The goats and dogs their flesh may keep, upon fair Palatine.
To purify with magic, and sacrifice to gods,
Virgil’s ode no more compels this fickle, future mob.
Nor can the edict of Claudius two, by order from his throne,
Compel true love to live its life, forever, all alone.
For faithful priest, this Valentine, tho’ not yet made a saint,
Did not obey that wicked man, and thereby sealed his fate.
Thus in two seventy A.D., his head from body torn,
A jailer’s daughter, the story goes, had blinded eyes reborn.
And for this selfless, noble act, Pope Gelasius, by name,
Decreed, that on the fourteenth day, his honor would remain.
‘Patron saint of Lovers’ Valentine himself would be
And this was all accomplished in 496 A.D.
But please observe, ye loving ones, the Duke of New Orleans.
Who, while in jail, first sent his wife a valentine received.
Alas we see our tale usurped by Cupid, as his day.
All men forget what history knows, deaf to what she’ll say.
So send your card, your candy too, give lovers a dead plant,
For History true I now have told, and never will recant.
Posted by Carl at 05:53 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 14, 2007
Monty Python: Airplane Pilots.
Reminds me a little of that "Far-side" strip. You know? The one where the pilots say "we're going to have some turbulence."
Posted by Carl at 10:12 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
October 01, 2007
Fun news story.
I think this is gonna work real well...
"New Zealanders have been given the chance to write their own laws, with a new online tool launched by police. The "wiki" will allow the public to suggest the wording of a new police act, as part of a government review of the current law, written in 1958." (Dom's Weird News.)
Posted by Carl at 01:08 AM | TrackBack
September 15, 2007
Ebay song by Weird Al + 2 Funny Guys = Priceless.
Posted by Carl at 11:50 PM | TrackBack
August 30, 2007
Flying Cars?
Dr Paul Moller seems to think he has solved the problem.
"It is the M 200G, otherwise known as a "flying saucer", which is being built by a company in Davis, California called Moller International.
Go to BBC News for the scoop.
Posted by Carl at 09:52 PM | TrackBack
April 28, 2007
One-half of One Percent.
Join the mighty one-half of one percent of all Americans right here. (Hat tip to the Outrageously Hopeless Actors.
Posted by Carl at 12:49 AM | TrackBack
March 30, 2007
Kinda funny it's online...
...this, I mean. (Found at Josiah's, here.)
I think--and honestly, I mean no disrespect; I'm just having fun--but I think the title should have been something more like this:
"Why I am NOT going to buy a computer: click this link to read why."
Posted by Carl at 12:18 AM | TrackBack
February 24, 2007
The Independent, Fundamental Baptist Doctrine of Hairology.
Long hair is, of course, a sin.
Found here.
Enjoy.
Posted by Carl at 11:00 PM | TrackBack
January 07, 2007
The Wisdom of Free Speech America.
"We have shown them our stupidity."
(Link)
FURTHER READING
The above quote can also be found here.
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The views and opinions of authors cited on The Grub Street Plumber's blog do not necessarily state or reflect the views of sane people, and may not be used for advertising or product endorsement purposes. The Grub Street Plumber may provide links to other Internet sites for the convenience of users, however he is not responsible for the availability or content of these external sites, nor does he endorse, or warrant the products, services, or information described or offered at these other Internet sites, nor does he offer any guarantee of their general perspicacity. He further states that this citation is merely done in the spirit of humour. So please, do not send me letters.
Posted by Carl at 10:02 PM | TrackBack
January 04, 2007
Some more SMOKE-FREE pics.
(Real ad here.)
Posted by Carl at 10:39 PM | TrackBack
Gardening Tips from an Expert Gardener.
In gardening, the most important thing one must remember is technique. One may, perhaps, be inclined to the somewhat antiquated notion that tilling the ground is the primary concern. But however many beautiful orations they might deliver upon the topic of tilling, assuredly they would be wrong. I write this essay to destroy the fruit of false notions which have arisen from erroneous opinions. (You may express your heartfelt thanks later.)
Continue reading "Gardening Tips from an Expert Gardener."
Posted by Carl at 01:23 AM | TrackBack
January 02, 2007
"Christian Countries: A Pelican Fairy-tale."
Once upon a time there were three old men who sat around and did nothing but pretend they were smarter than each other. One was a writer who could not write. The other, a sallow faced fellow, was a teacher who could not teach. The third was the smartest of them all, for he was only a rube.
Continue reading ""Christian Countries: A Pelican Fairy-tale.""
Posted by Carl at 02:01 AM | TrackBack
September 19, 2006
Well I'll be danged...
Check this out.
I'm flattered...and, I suppose, a little frightened.
"Want to determine info focusing on grub street plumber? We have an incredible amount of data relating to grub street plumber."
Who are these anonymities?
UPDATE!!!
There is more depth to this mystery than I suspected. See here.
My favorite quote?
"Have faith on me!! This the grub street plumber site may give you all useful and valuable knowledge about brain drain in india."
Posted by Carl at 09:23 PM | TrackBack
September 17, 2006
'The Lot' Or, Why Emmy-M didn't write what I thought he writed.
It seems Mynym has posted a post--though not post haste--in which post, by the use of his particular podium and his probatory powers, he posited a preponderation which I perceived to be a primer on a problem practicable for my purview. AS IT HAPPENS, I was deceived. Mind I do not say that the ever-illustrious Mynym deceived. I fully admit, no matter my omissions, that I was in error. His post had to do with aces (pilots) and turkeys (erm, bad pilots) . I thought it had to do with poker. The following line, from here, which line I interpreted solely by my feelings, I interpreted wrong.
"The issue reminds me of gaming and how you can tell that some guys are Aces and some are Turkeys in any given game."
Alas and alack, I was wrong.
So I thoughts to myself: “Now just why the heck can’t you write that there article (arrr-tee-kal)?” An again: “You cans. I know you cans. Just sit on down, take up your little old keyboard, an write that there thing (th-ang).”
Although it is generally true that one should not hear, much less listen to the voices in one’s head, I have decided, or, rather, we have decided that we shall write this article having to do with poker and not at all related to what Mr. Mynym has written. And this thing we are writing, we beg the reader to understand that they may take it or leave it at their discretion, as it makes no nevermind to us; we never had that difficulty of concerning ourselves with opinionations given by the generality of mankind. (Or woman-kind for that matter. We gotta add that: ain’t no reason to make them dang females mad.)
One farther thing by way of a furthermore. Every once’t in a while I’ll be adding these here little things: “(“ and “).” (An I don’t mean them dangly little commas hanging from the sky.) When I do add them things, all I’m meaning to do is explicate for the reader the properest pronunciation of them particular words I's using. That’s all. Now, on with my 'gaming' tale.
Continue reading "'The Lot' Or, Why Emmy-M didn't write what I thought he writed."
Posted by Carl at 12:48 AM | TrackBack
June 26, 2006
A Horse's Tale.
“Now just a dang minute!” I cried. “Some things a man’s gotta endure; and some he don’t. But I sure as heck ain’t gonna take bein’ called a liar!”
With a rather curious expression my horse looked just stared at me. For a few minutes we observed each other in silence. He was tranquil; I was angry. Little veins stood out from both my neck and forehead. At length he answered me.
“Do you contend that I do not speak?” he asked.
“What in the devil’s that supposed to mean? I know you’re talkin’. Don’t deny it. What I got a problem with is, why? How?”
“Really,” he replied. “I should have thought that you, of all people, wouldn’t have troubled yourself with such difficulties.”
For nearly forty minutes more we argued about whether or not a farmer had the mental capacity to comprehend a horse. To this day I don’t know who won the argument.
He is such an intractable beast. Has been for all his life. I tried for nearly the whole of three years to break him. Couldn’t do it. And on that cool, August night, he nearly took from me what little confidence in self I had managed to preserve from the horrors of childhood.
Waxing eloquent on my many faults, he trampled upon my ego in such a way I thought I never would recover. I did, however, get over my disinclination towards possessing an articulate equine. Such things, I suppose, must be gotten over. He was adamant in refusing to let me get on.
And I admit it; for a time, avarice got the better of me.
I tried quite unsuccessfully to convince Eddie—for this was the name of my horse—I tried to convince him of the money we could make. I did my best to persuade him that every person on the planet would pay, just to hear him speak. It was to no avail. He absolutely refused to be paraded about like some circus freak. He was, he said, not made for that. I threatened him with hard labor. He merely whinnied.
I had to shoot him. What good is a horse that can talk if he won’t do what you tell him to do?
Posted by Carl at 02:59 PM | TrackBack