Gone. Gone. Gone beyond! Svaha!
My personal favorite - “Richard Dawkins - I hope you die of rabies….bitch-licker"
Bitch-licker - wow - you know - I went to Catholic elementary school, which
along with random acts of brutality perpetrated by bitter old women,
provided me with an excellent grounding in all the various
styles of cursing… I must say - bitch-licker is a new
* and welcome *
addition to the library.
Professor Dawkins does a brilliant job reading various hate
mails dispatched from the commanding heights of
Christian discourse. It’s a laugh-out-loud
Oh yes, try and find a way to work Bitch-Licker
into a conversation today.
If people complain,
just tell them it’s one of those
Humans from Earth
We come from a blue planet light-years away
I will make of my mind a scrape nest for your absence. Clear a swale
~ Jody Rambo, “Elegy in which a Bird Appears"
With twenty-four inches of snow on the ground and drifts over forty-eight inches in spots, yesterday was not the time for The Beast to go on sick leave.. But - that’s precisely what (almost) happened.
In early evening when the snow and wind had eased a bit, I decided to wake Beast up and see if we could clear some of the storm’s droppings. I heaved open the elderly side driveway garage door and wrestled Beast into position. I pumped the carburetor priming button the prescribed three times, set the choke to full, and opened up the throttle. One pull of the starter cord, two pulls, three pulls - *snap*
I stood there shocked - holding Beast’s black starter handle and a broken length of starter pull cord in my hand. The rest of the cord had been neatly retracted back up inside Beasts starter mechanism.
There is no more sickening feeling in this whole god-forsaken world than holding a broken starter cord when there is two feet of snow to be moved..
To borrow one of Doff’s favorite phrases for situations like this: Holy fucking shit.
Then the thought came, “Rosary cord.” I shook it off. "What a stupid fucking idea.” In between swearing, I wracked my brain for a more suitable replacement. I went spelunking through the basement looking for cording. While trying out some new swearing combinations, and bent over looking under a table, again the thought came, “Rosary cord.” This time I stood stock-still and remembered - I had recently purchased black parachute cording to try out on rosary making.. Though not as heavy duty as Beast’s original pull cord - it might be strong enough to get us through this crisis.
The rosary cord was installed in Beast’s pull cord cassette after about a half an hour of ten frozen fucking fingers screwing around with teensy fucking bolts.
Once again I set the choke - primed the carb - opened the throttle and yanked on that black rosary cord. It held. Beast turned over, belched black smoke as is his wont upon waking, and off we went to dispatch another Nor’easter.
Big love to the Blessed Mother. Thanks Ma, we would not have been able to do it without you..