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rant ahead.
so earlier this week someone noticed the book I was reading (Salman Rushdie's The Enchantress of Florence) and asked me if I actually read it in English. Today I wore this shirt and it reminded me why I got it-- because I found it funny and sarcastic and a little bit of a sad reflection of social-cultural mores/perceptions in this country. Pretty much all my life a lot of folks (even the Asian ones) have asked me if I'm Chinese. It always bugs me that before I can even open my mouth that my origins are much more important to them than who I am (or at least my last name is...being the most common Chinese last name...then there's my looks, but let's not go there). Why, oh why, can't I just say I'm from the planet of Zaphod Beeblebrox and that my parents were green headed aliens?
(for the record, my parents immigrated from south korea about oh, i don't know, decades ago, in the 1960s, and I was born in a crazy melting pot of a town called Flushing, Queens, NYC).
SOOC . . . I thought this was pretty on its own without any editing help. :-)
We've had such an amazing summer in Seattle . . . one full week of sun and warmth . . . ahhhhh Seattle (please note the sarcasm here). Its' drizzling this morning. Now, now, I'm not complaining, seriously I am not. I know back east is getting pummeled with a hurricane. I'm just simply stating that I've really enjoyed this week of Seattle summer and I'll miss it. ;-)
<sarcasm>wow... my own booklet full of postgrad info!</sarcasm>
www.pg.monash.edu.au/ says: www.pg.monash.edu.au can only be reached
using a unique login ID.
Please check your personal website details from your Postgraduate Information brochure and try logging in again!
Amazing.
tenia q subirla,esta buenisima!
Un beso a todos los argentinos de una tana q se interesa a la politica del pais de uds!
Cornelius stumbled into the dining room. Mother was pointedly buttering bread, ignoring his soft groans as each hoof-fall rebounded off the top of his skull. Augustus looked perfectly fresh, rot his eyes, not a hair out of place, avidly reading a Gaulish fashion journal. Delmon sipped from his tea, an arched brow his only acknowledgement of Cornelius' staggering entrance.
As he whimpered his way into the chair, carefully sweeping his tail to the side, Phineas placed a teacup before him & poured out. Cornelius sighed and wrapped his hands around the rapidly warming Chin cup gratefully.
"What time of the day do you call this, then?" Cornelius wheezed, feeling his eyeballs bounce as every beat of his heart tried to make his brain explode. Phineas finished pouring and set the sugar bowl next to his elbow with a crisp click.
"Och, Ah believe tha rest o' the people in this residence call it lunchtime, or 'dejeuner' in the Gaulois, sarr." the griffin eased out of the room with a fillip of his wings as everyone else at the table started laughing. Augustus howled, covering his face with his magazine, Maeve slapped the table in helpless mirth while Delmon roared, huge white fangs shining in his broad black face.
Cornelius winced at the racket and sipped carefully at his tea.
"Hateful, heartless villains, the lot of you." he muttered, as the sugared tea traced a path of warmth to his knotted stomach.
“Been nice sleeping with you.”
There was just a hint of humor
Behind the deft sarcasm
Coming from the gaunt face
Of the pretty young woman
Who caught us by surprise
She had not said a word to us
All afternoon
I believe our response was
A smile
And “Good luck to you”
I wanted to say
“Hang in there”
But I didn’t
As we left the room
Feeling lucky
And sad
I thought about
Our chats with her mother
As her daughter lay beside her
Sound asleep
Soundly blocking out
The hell around her
They were doing everything
For her “baby”
Chemo six hours a day
Five days a week
To stop the spreading sarcoma
She was far too young
To be going through this
But she was a “tough cookie”
Her mother said
As the afternoon dragged on
My wife and I
Played cribbage, ate chocolates
And took turns nodding off
Letting the toxins flow through
My wife’s body
For the fourth time
As the mother next to us
Stayed awake
She was beyond sleep
But not tears
We told her
Tears were a good thing
She need not “seek help”
As someone
In the medical profession
Had suggested
Dear Lord
For crying out loud
She was only
Being human
...............................................
T.G. Friel
excuse the sarcasm. finished work early today, and was sat at home when we suddenly got the most beautiful pink, peach and blue sunset. so, amazed at the opportunity of seeing daylight during the week, i rushed out with my camera...only to find out that my camera (my lovely, trustworthy, reliable camera) was having a dicky fit and refused to work :(
so, i came home and sat here sulking, trying to figure out whether it was human or technical error (assuming, as ever, that it was the first of those). and of course, within 15 minutes of the sky having turned pitch black, it magically started working again. so here you go, some random abstract rubbish instead of a lovely calming sunset.
[personally, i suspect gordon of foul play - he's found out that he was in explore, and i never told him, so he's in the blackest of moods. oh dear...]
Flying insects catching the late afternoon Sun along the Wheelock Rail Trail in Sandbach, Cheshire.
What an interesting day it has been today. #Sarcasm
01/10/2020
I love sarcasm. Laugh of the day! - Taken at 11:28 PM on April 17, 2006; cameraphone upload by ShoZu
As Top Gear's star turn would say through heavily jowled sarcasm. "This is a Guy Arab (pause), but its not any old Guy Arab (another long pause) oh dear me no".
Originally delivered to Lincoln Corporation in 1949 (I think) with a Meadows 6DC 10.35 litre engine, hence the short bonnet and wings. Meadows, who had a factory next to Guy's at Fallings Park, 6DC engine was an attempt by Guy to provide their customers with some thing more powerful and refined than the Gardener 6LW and more akin to Leyland and AEC's 9.8 and 9.6 litre offerings.
However allthough very powerful (135bhp) and fleet of foot, it was not very well designed or rubust. Operators generally replaced them with something else, when something drastic happened, rather than try to repair the 6DC. I think their speciality was snapping their crankshafts.
So I think this Guy inherited a Leyland E181 7.4 litre engine normally found in the PD1 and PS1 models, which was short enough to fit the resultant gap left by the 6DC.
Later on the bus was used by local firm Ruston's as a testbed for their air cooled 8.6 litre diesel engine, that they were then developing in the late fifties.
To this day this is the engine the bus retains, and develops about 120bhp and revs up to about 2,200rpm (I think).
So the Guy is quite quick if somewhat noisy. Still it adds to the fun.
If you get a chanceto peek at the engine it is so simple as to be unbelivable. Definitely a striking contrast to today's offerings which can look and probably are, extremely complicated.