I am the person who will destroy China. (madman101) wrote,
I am the person who will destroy China.

Advent in Wonderland

My Walgreen's $5 coupon expires tomorrow, and will turn back into a worthless scrap of recycleable paper.  Also, tomorrow, it will be 20 degrees colder than today - and windy.  Yet, I did not go anywhere today, because this is Day 3 of the relapse caused by the jackass downstairs.  That's about 72 hours of hell, for nothing.  Because he smelled my turkey cooking.  He's an animal.  Today, the severe frontal migraine met a rising tide of heavy fatigue.  Like a beautiful painting.

I heard that today begins Advent, and simultaneously found this blog about the adventures of Maria and the Bready Jesus.  It's sacrilegious like Life of Brian was sacrilegious, so take heed, you cloistered virgins.  I suppose this might be said to be an example of dangerous Catholic fanaticism.  Occurs on January first, however, which is also a holy day, called Feast of the Hangover, or something.

The 1969 Easter Mass Incident

I also saw this story in Wiki, which is an example of the Scots flavoured dialect in North Eire.  I am including it because of the titel of this post, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with anything.  Except, I talk like this when I am in sleep paralysis.

From Alice's Carrànts in Wunnerlan (Anne Morrison-Smyth, 2013)[72]

The Caterpillar an Alice lukt at ither fur a quare while wi’oot taakin: finally the Caterpillar tuk the hookah oot o its mooth, an spoke tae hir in a languid, dozy voice.
“Wha ir yae?” said the Caterpillar.
This wusnae a pooerfu guid openin fur a yarn. Alice answert brev an baakwardly, “A—A harly know, Sir, jest at this minute—at least A know wha A wus this moarnin, but heth, A hae bin changed a wheen o times since thin.”
“What dae yae mean bae that?” said the Caterpillar sternly. “Explain yersel!”
“A cannae explain maesel, A’m feart, Sir,” said Alice, “baecaas A’m naw maesel, yae see.”
“A dinnae see,” said the Caterpillar.
“A cannae mak it onie mair clear,” Alice answer, while polite, “fur A cannae unnerstan it maesel tae stairt wi; an baein sae monie different sizes in yin dae haes turnt mae heid.”

Gad-Nicht, Sante-w/-Claws...  Where's  my present?!  I've been a good little bed-bug.  But all I get are apples.  Under me exoskallywaggin.  Surreal.  I am sooooooo tired....

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