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in a web of glass, pinned to the edges of vision

Another blast from the past...

I'd forgotten how often we saw Magritte

mucha mosaic

Another blast from the past...

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mucha mosaic
My child, I must welcome you to the
CONFESSIONAL OF HORRORS

You may confess to any secretive shame here- you may even confess anonymously, my child, should you so need.

(Your confessor acknowledges his unhealthy interest in the attire of young men who pretend to be elves, and works diligently to do away with this affront to the LORD's wishes by attempting to parlay this into an interest in the attire of young men who pretend to be pirates.)
  • (no subject) -
    • And why do you like the Spice Girls, my son? If one is inclined towards the female of the species there are some rather handsome specimens among the Spice Girls. If one actually likes their music, one should perhaps be seeking the aid of a professional.
  • Despite being exposed to excellent pasta of every kind thanks to the relatives since, well, birth, I still get a craving every once in a blue moon for Chef Boyardee, even though it tastes horrid, is probably made of plastic, and is unquestionably bad for me. Bri was buying it for a while, and hiding it from me since he thought I wouldn't understand, and would yell at him for the... well, I can cook real pasta in zillions of ways. *hangs head* When I found it, and he peered at me with this guilty little kid look, I just asked if I could have some.
  • I have exactly one chin hair. One. I feel it is unbecoming to my genetic femaleness. I do not like it, Sam-I-Am. It must be periodically removed.

    Since a "beauty" establishment in my town provides electrolysis, I actually walked in and asked how much it would cost to have exactly one hair electrolysed. The women behind the counter at the time were completely nonplussed, and ended up simply quoting me the ludicrous hourly rate and suggesting I call back and speak to the hair-zapping woman. I haven't yet.
    • I see little that you might need to commit penance for in this, my daughter. Vanity is a venal sin, certainly, but this is a rather minor case of it.
      To say the least.
  • I have sympathy for the title character in Willard. I don't think he started out unhinged. I think years and years of living with his unhinged, sick old bat of a mother, plus being forced to work for the huge penis of a bastard who stole the company from his dead father [Dude! Senator Kelly was Willard's father!] after said bastard drove said father to suicide is why Willard was such a messed up guy.

    With his mother like she was, he had no guidance on proper social contact either.

    I guessit's bird with a broken wing syndrome
    • It is hardly a sin to find sympathy for a character in a movie designed around the premise of making you feel sympathy for that character. While Crispin Glover's performance is not especially sympathy-provoking, the overall gestalt of the character's life is supposed to provoke sympathy, which is much more available in the 1971 film.
      If you feel you must commit some form of penance for this, my daughter, I would recommend renting the 1971 movie and watching that; it is in almost every way a superior film.
  • I paid to see Howard the Duck and Lenoard Part VI.

    While I'm at it, I'll confess to having sex on the observation area of the Cliff House at night in plain view of people walking by.
  • I can't blow a bubble with bubble gum :(

    G
    • You would be surprised at the number of everyday things that other people cannot do, my son. Some people cannot snap their fingers. Some people cannot whistle with fingers in their mouths (myself, for instance). Some people cannot roll their tongues.

      Your so-perceived failing harms no-one, and is unlikely to ever cause you trouble in a real way. The Lord loves all of his children, bubble-gum-less heathens or not.
  • I didn't feel nearly the horror at "Wasp Woman" when dad made us watch it at Thanksgiving that I expressed. It's just fun to make fun of him for buying horrible movies.
    • If your father understands that the attraction is to mock his choices in cinematic entertainment, my daughter, there is no sin here. If he does not understand that, it would be wise to let the poor man in on the joke.
  • i once filled a rental car with premium

  • I can't do long division.
    • Is this hindering you? If so, there are probably ways to learn how to rectify this. But I have not, myself, done long division in seven years at least. I suspect that there is little harm done by this lack.
  • Additionally, I am so screamingly bored with this training that I'm paying more attention to LJ than my training. This will bite me later, I'm sure.
  • My secret shame

    I love "teen" comedy movies like Can't Hardly Wait, Bring it On, and so on. No one will ever go see them with me, so I have to rent them on the sly.

    The greater sin is the fact that I almost always skip ahead to the end of every book to read how it ends. Checkmate is probably the only book to which I didn't do this.
  • When I was sixteen, I went to church on a Saturday night with a friend to keep her company, because she hated going there and got bored easily. We snuck out of the service and went downstairs, where the communion had been prepared for the service the following morning. It started out as a dare, but by the time we were done, we had devoured the entire Host and put a pretty hefty dent in the Blood as well.

    Jeezits, the snack cracker that died for your sins.
  • I once harbored a crush on a 29-year old European History teacher. :(
  • I have sinned!

    In keeping with the film debauchery splayed somewhat above, I saw Battlefield Earth and didn't think it was a bad movie.

    ...To my credit, hopefully, I didn't actually believe it was a good movie. Just not as bad as others remarked it as being.
    • Re: I have sinned!

      To repent of a sin one must first atone for it- one must first desire to leave this sin behind him.
      I do not detect the air of repentance in your words, my son.
  • My Confession

    Oh Father Colubra, it has been 167 days since I last confessed.
    My Mother and I were going to the movies, and it was very cold that day. She asked me to go upstairs and fetch her scarf off her bed for her, but the cat was sleeping on it. After much internal debate I grabbed one end of the scarf and yanked very hard, sending the cat spinning onto a pile of dirty laundry on the floor. Then I laughed and ran away.
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