[toenail clippings] Something's Not Right with Queen Neutopia (Part the First)
BuzzBuzz
Queen Neutopia, hooked on acid
shat in a five-gallon drum
Screaming "Man is a pestilence! A virus!"
as she ripped some detritus
from the walls of her womb with her thumb
©1999 BuzzBuzz
Dr. Binky
wrote:
>Queen Neutopia, hooked on acid
>shat in a five-gallon drum
>Screaming "Man is a pestilence! A virus!"
>as she ripped some detritus
>from the walls of her womb with her thumb
>
>©1999 BuzzBuzz
Damn that's some poor poetry. It doesn't even scan properly. Was it
meant to be a limerick? Here's my reply.
Dear BuzzBuzz:
There once was a post to alt tasteless
Its stupidity really enraged us
So hold still, you prick
While we cut off your dick
And stick a clue bat up your anus
>http://www.egroups.com/list/surreal-toenail/
I checked out this list, but could only stomach a few articles. It
mostly seems to be random word strings created from a list made by
giggling beavis-like tards. I quote...
`For example, the so-called AIDS-ridden prostitute indicates that a
food stamp seldom cooks cheese grits for a nuclear mongoloid. When
another tit clamp of a blastula daydreams, the droopy dick inside the
limping dickhead flies into a rage.'
And so-fucking-forth. I know it's surrealism, but ....
--
Dr. Binky Doctor...@hotmail.com
http://members.xoom.com/dr_binky
"Any kiddie in school can love like a fool,
but hating, my boy, is an art.
-- Ogden Nash
BuzzBuzz
Thank you.
>It doesn't even scan properly.
Of course it doesn't. Why should it?
>Was it meant to be a limerick?
No. It was meant to be what it is. What does it mean to you? What does it
mean to its intended target, the loopy Queen Neutopia? Different things to
different people. I'm more concerned with content. Structure be damned.
>Here's my reply.
Oh, goody! A tutorial!
>There once was a post to alt tasteless
>Its stupidity really enraged us
>So hold still, you prick
>While we cut off your dick
>And stick a clue bat up your anus
*That's* an example of how it's done? I think my piece is FAR more
inventive. Rhyming "dick" with "prick"? Sophomoric, at best. The "clue bat"
line did give me a little chuckle, I must admit.
>>http://www.egroups.com/list/surreal-toenail/
>
>I checked out this list, but could only stomach a few articles. It
>mostly seems to be random word strings created from a list made by
>giggling beavis-like tards. I quote...
I scanned your web page, too. Hmmmm... Let's see. Shit. Piss. Blood. Vomit.
Farts. More shit. More blood. More vomit. Not too far removed from the
things we write about on my list, although very well written, I must admit.
We're pissing in the same sandbox, here...
>`For example, the so-called AIDS-ridden prostitute indicates that a
>food stamp seldom cooks cheese grits for a nuclear mongoloid. When
>another tit clamp of a blastula daydreams, the droopy dick inside the
>limping dickhead flies into a rage.'
Judge the output of the entire list on a few posts created with a random
sentence generator, huh? Very thorough of you, Doctor.
>And so-fucking-forth. I know it's surrealism, but ....
... I was lonely and bored and tired of playing with myself, soooo...
Dr. Binky
wrote:
>>Damn that's some poor poetry.
>
>Thank you.
>
>>It doesn't even scan properly.
>
>Of course it doesn't. Why should it?
Beacuse the last two scan perfectly, it seemed that the others might.
>
>No. It was meant to be what it is. What does it mean to you? What does it
>mean to its intended target, the loopy Queen Neutopia? Different things to
>different people. I'm more concerned with content. Structure be damned.
Here, I'll try again.
Cumquat sickened aardvarks
Shit technicolour squirts against a turquoise sky
Rutebager winnebago spigot
Wizened hags tear out infants eyeballs
And chew optic nerves with toothless gums.
>>I checked out this list, but could only stomach a few articles. It
>>mostly seems to be random word strings created from a list made by
>>giggling beavis-like tards. I quote...
>
>I scanned your web page, too. Hmmmm... Let's see. Shit. Piss. Blood. Vomit.
>Farts. More shit. More blood. More vomit. Not too far removed from the
>things we write about on my list, although very well written, I must admit.
>We're pissing in the same sandbox, here...
Thanks for the compliment, there's nothing like a little bodily fluids
to liven up one's day.
>Judge the output of the entire list on a few posts created with a random
>sentence generator, huh? Very thorough of you, Doctor.
Okay, I may have been hasty in my judgement, I'll have another
look.The screaming migraine I had yesterday didn't help my judgement
either. It's a migraine or a tumour. Will post details if it's the
latter.
BuzzBuzz
<doctor...@hotmail.com> wrote:
> Here, I'll try again.
>
> Cumquat sickened aardvarks
> Shit technicolour squirts against a turquoise sky
> Rutebager winnebago spigot
> Wizened hags tear out infants eyeballs
> And chew optic nerves with toothless gums.
Now, that's more like it! A fine job! I especially love the "bay"
repetition in the third line. The damn thing just *sings*. It reads
like a Robert Williams painting. I wouldn't mind illustrating that
passage, myself...
> Thanks for the compliment, there's nothing like a little bodily fluids
> to liven up one's day.
Agreed.
> Okay, I may have been hasty in my judgement, I'll have another
> look.The screaming migraine I had yesterday didn't help my judgement
> either. It's a migraine or a tumour. Will post details if it's the
> latter.
Chemotherapy, from personal ("Jesus fucking Christ! Has it been two
weeks already?") experience sucks. If you're ever offered the choice
between a shiny, new car or six months of chemo, do yourself a favor
and choose the car.
Dr. Binky
wrote:
>In article <36c9f312....@news.mira.net>, Dr. Binky
><doctor...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
>
Hey, glad you liked the newer poem...
>
>Chemotherapy, from personal ("Jesus fucking Christ! Has it been two
>weeks already?") experience sucks. If you're ever offered the choice
>between a shiny, new car or six months of chemo, do yourself a favor
>and choose the car.
Choose the car? Oh shit, I gotta make a phonecall...
Rat & Swan
> >Damn that's some poor poetry.
> Thank you.
Don't mention it. Better yet, don't say another word. then WE can thank
YOU.
> >It doesn't even scan properly.
> Of course it doesn't. Why should it?
Listen, you self absorbed turd, poetry is an ART FORM and needn't be
mucked about with by shittyfingered knownothings like yourself! Good
GOD, have you no fucking CIVILISATION? Forget that... rhetorical
question.
> I'm more concerned with content. Structure be damned.
So said by those who cannot MASTER structure! Forthwith!
Kind Sir, your egregious dead doggerel's vile!
So fail me the words to reply
Save to tell you to bugger your Mum for a while
And then, Sir, to fuck off and die!
Your effort at poetry's really a farce
For truly you haven't the wit
To tell metered verse from what comes from your arse
When you squat on the dunny to shit!
Now take off your shoes when you exit these halls
And pray that we never may sight
Your likeness again, or we'll cut off your balls
And eat them up raw, just for spite!
Swan!
Perceptor
don.....................
"When you have to kill a man, it costs nothing to be polite. "
- Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965)
BuzzBuzz
wrote:
> Listen, you self absorbed turd, poetry is an ART FORM and needn't be
> mucked about with by shittyfingered knownothings like yourself! Good
> GOD, have you no fucking CIVILISATION? Forget that... rhetorical
> question.
Tell me, Swan, how much does it cost you per year to become a
card-carrying member of "THOSE WHO KNOW"? I really would like to join
but I fear my coming from the shallow end of the gene pool may
negatively effect my chances. It must be wonderful to be a member,
sitting around all day delineating exactly how things "should be",
defining every new term that enters the "language" (which you did a
fine job on, by the way...) and so on. It makes one wonder where we all
would be without you and your associates. I had no idea that poetry, to
be called such, HAD to conform to a rigid set of guidelines. I just
thought it was a bunch of words all strewn together without rhyme or
reason. Imagine my chagrin when I posted all those lame "freeform"
groups of WORDS masquerading as POETRY! Jesus, I am SO sorry for taking
up your valuable space. This "avant garde" thing all these radical
thinkers love so much must really get on your nerves, huh? God, the
gall all these shittyfingered knownothings have to attempt to fuck with
THE RULES for creation within an ART FORM. Jesus jumped-up Christ, is
nothing sacred? Burn them all, I say. Oh, by the way, I heard a song on
the radio the other day and it deviated from the standard
"intro/verse/verse/chorus/verse/verse/chorus/outro" format! You'd
better look into that. I think his name was Dolphy or Dolphin or
something. Fucking barbarian. Mucking with an ART FORM like that! Did
he even BOTHER to check with your organization beforehand? Have the
proper forms been filled out? Please check your records.
> So said by those who cannot MASTER structure! Forthwith!
(And *I'M* self-absorbed!)
Tell me, what is the difference between what *you* posted and a dirty
limerick scrawled on a restroom wall? Don't they both conform to the
same "structure" of poetry? You know, "meter" and all that shit? They
do? Well then, why is one considered highbrow (your creation, which
follows all the "rules" for poetry) and one lowbrow (that nasty little
limerick most likely smeared on the enamel of the stall wall by an
overweight, farting truck driver with his own feces... which also
followes the "rules" of poetry creation)? Has the truck driver shown
mastery over the artform? While you're at it, define MASTERY of an
artform, willya? I'm a bit lost here. Man, all this is just so
confusing. Please set me on the right path.
Citizen Ted
wrote:
>In article <36CCBB...@pacbell.net>, Rat & Swan <lab...@pacbell.net>
>wrote:
>
>
>> Listen, you self absorbed turd, poetry is an ART FORM and needn't be
>> mucked about with by shittyfingered knownothings like yourself! Good
>> GOD, have you no fucking CIVILISATION? Forget that... rhetorical
>> question.
>
>Tell me, Swan, how much does it cost you per year to become a
>card-carrying member of "THOSE WHO KNOW"?
Swan is indeed a card-carrying member (since 1977), and is
logged with the proper THOSE WHO KNOW credentials here at Armchair
Anthropologist's "Deep End of the Gene Pool" Honor Society.
If you wish to be considered for membership, please submit a
2,000 word essay on the subject "The Failure of the Avant Garde in the
Wake of Post Modernist Ennui", along with a compulsory postal money
order in the sum of $500, c/o this address.
> I had no idea that poetry, to
>be called such, HAD to conform to a rigid set of guidelines. I just
>thought it was a bunch of words all strewn together without rhyme or
>reason. Imagine my chagrin when I posted all those lame "freeform"
>groups of WORDS masquerading as POETRY! Jesus, I am SO sorry for taking
>up your valuable space.
As we shall see, there is indeed room to criticize the
ridiculous notion that graceless expression without form is as
valuable or compelling as graceful expression within form.
>Oh, by the way, I heard a song on
>the radio the other day and it deviated from the standard
>"intro/verse/verse/chorus/verse/verse/chorus/outro" format! You'd
>better look into that. I think his name was Dolphy or Dolphin or
>something. Fucking barbarian. Mucking with an ART FORM like that!
Ah, here we get to the nub of it. Your lame analogy falls to
pieces when carefully scrutinized. It is your contention that
"rebellious" disregard of form represents a noble leap of artistic
sensibilities. That being the case, your pathetic straw man of a
verse/chorus rock song analogy falls flat. A true analogy would be to
aver that if I came into your home with a piano and bashed away at the
keys with a mallet for several hours, that would constitute a
recognizable breakthrough in musical aesthetics equal to your
employment of "free verse".
Your sophomoric, formless verse is just that -- it is noise,
especially in the context where it was placed.
Form is function. Function is the vehicle of shared
experience. Shared experience is the essence of Art and the aim of all
artists.
This is not to say that form cannot be subjugated and
modified. The brilliant works of Reich, Picasso, Joyce, and even
Zappa demonstrate this clearly.
On the very outskirts of this subjugation are the works of
John Cage, the European Industrial movement and modern American
noisicians. These amorphous musical forms are all of questionable
value, as their disregard of the medium indeed clouds their message --
intentionally.
But you, sir, are a keyboard banger, plain and simple.
>> So said by those who cannot MASTER structure! Forthwith!
>
>(And *I'M* self-absorbed!)
>
>Tell me, what is the difference between what *you* posted and a dirty
>limerick scrawled on a restroom wall? Don't they both conform to the
>same "structure" of poetry? You know, "meter" and all that shit? They
>do? Well then, why is one considered highbrow (your creation, which
>follows all the "rules" for poetry) and one lowbrow (that nasty little
>limerick most likely smeared on the enamel of the stall wall by an
>overweight, farting truck driver with his own feces... which also
>followes the "rules" of poetry creation)? Has the truck driver shown
>mastery over the artform? While you're at it, define MASTERY of an
>artform, willya? I'm a bit lost here. Man, all this is just so
>confusing. Please set me on the right path.
Whew! I've seen some adolescent foot-stomping in my day, but
that was quite a show!
What makes some art Fine Art? What makes a dauber of acrylics
an Artiste? Nothing more than the vagaries of patrons. The bathroom
wall may very well contain cultural insights which eclipse those of
the greatest scholars. The greatest scholars may very well lay giant
fat turds throughout their entire careers. "Even genius needs a
competent technique".
It is not "value" which makes art valuable. It is the enviable
ability of the artist to explore boldly and *demonstrate compellingly*
their artistic vision.
Let's look to the words of Robert Fripp, one of our century's
truly inspired musical artists. His works have spanned musical
horizons from the traditional to the highly unorthodox:
"Craft is a universal language.
Craft maintains skill; discipline maintains craft.
Craft follows the tradition;
discipline maintains the tradition;
music (Art) invents the tradition by instructing the genius."
Get it?
Now take your piano and your mallets and go bang away in some
other hall where the listeners have as equally noxious, elementary and
valueless sensibilities as yours.
- TR
- chairman, Armchair Anthropologist.
ObT: What a day! First, I was on my way to meet a client in
the wilds of Whidby Island. As I crossed a wide lowland expanse, I saw
an alarming number of dead birds by the side of the road. Being a
tasteless sort, I had to stop and inspect.
I counted 33 dead ravens, all about the same age, all
relatively intact, laying dead on the northbound macadam of Hwy 20.
They were all within a 3 meter radius of each other. A few had, of
course, been run over by vehicles, but most were simply tits-up dead.
Above them was a mid-level hi-voltage line, but the wires
seemed fully insulated (besides, ravens are way too small to contact
both lines at once and get zapped). The weather was fine, and all
seemed secure. Then, I realized that I was not one mile from Whidby
Island Naval Air Station. As I stood over the recently piffed
blackbirds, an A6 light attack aircraft came thundering by overhead.
Had the birds been stymied by a naval radar blast? Was there
some new lethal technology afoot of which I am blissfully ignorant?
Pehaps our naval weapons guru, Mr. Hall, can give me some
insight into the possible source of this mass-road kill...
Just when I thought my day's fun was over, I headed back
toward the Skagit valley, when my van was overtaken by a speeding
pick-up truck and three Oak Harbor police cruisers in hot pursuit!
The pick-up careened wildly toward the east-bound turn-off,
cops hot on his heels, then suddenly smashed headlong up the curb and
pulled a suicidal U-turn back toward my direction. The cops swung
their monstrous Caprices back behind the fleeing felon in a murky
cloud of dust and flying pebbles.
The pick-up then whipped down a sidestreet, cops in tow. I
pulled over to a gas station across the way, and hopped out of the
van. I heard a loud "whump!" sound and the tell-tale crunch of
buckling steel. Yummy!!!!
The gas station guys came outside, whooping and hollering.
They explained to me that the fleeing pick-up driver was a known meth
dealer who lived at that dead-end street. Apparently, the cops and the
locals had been monitoring this white trash vagabond for some time,
and today was the expected day of reckoning.
The two gas station guys led me down the dead end, where we
found the pick-up driver had impacted his own single-wide trailer. Cop
cars flooded into the scene, emergency lights a-flashin'. The pick-up
had apparently barreled headlong into the trailer, and sent the entire
contents bursting out the other side like the splattered innards of a
road kill muskrat. Dust billowed everywhere. The cops tossed the perp
into a cruiser, and started some crowd control with the terrified
trailer park residents.
I couldn't see much, so I hopped back into my van and headed
home. As I passed by the trailer park, I could see the far side of the
impacted trailer home. It looked like an average Indian reservation
domicile: rusted metal siding bursting at the seams, with enough
cheap, filthy junk furniture and unwashed laundry to fill a goddamn
737, scattered all over the place. If I wasn't sure of my geography, I
thought I might have somehow been transported to one of the ramshackle
hamlets of "suburban" Quito.
Tenants were milling about, waving their arms in
consternation. Police were flooding the scene like anti-terrorist army
regulars. The devastated trailer abutted the eastbound highway,
giving every motorist a lovely view of the finest Drug War battle
scene which tax money can provide.
It was so beautiful, I almost shed a tear...
My dear fringies, this was one of the finest Fridays I've had
in some time....
BuzzBuzz
<ham...@omit.nas.com> wrote:
> As we shall see, there is indeed room to criticize the
> ridiculous notion that graceless expression without form is as
> valuable or compelling as graceful expression within form.
It's not a ridiculous notion when approached from the original intent
of the creator. Do you seriously believe that without structure, there
can be no grace of expression? That's insane. You mention the work of
Zappa later in your post. You mean to tell me that _Civilization: Phase
Three_ (one of his last works and probably one of his most
unstructured) is lacking in grace of expression, that the ideas
presented within are not as valid or compelling as those created from
within a time-honored structural framework? You're nuts. Expression is
expression. Form is a useful and wonderful tool but, in my opinion, not
essential for validity of expression.
Is the work of John Zorn any less valuable than that of Louis Armstrong?
Are the paintings of Jackson Pollock any less compelling than those of
the Old Masters?
Creation is creation whether originating from within a cage or not.
> A true analogy would be if I came into your home with a piano and bashed
> away at the keys with a mallet for several hours, that would constitute a
> recognizable breakthrough in musical aesthetics equal to your
> employment of "free verse".
You're obviously not a fan of Cecil Taylor...
It would be the same thing in that we both had an idea and we presented
it in the way we saw fit. I agree that we would be both making noise.
Noise can be a good thing. I never said that what I did with words way
anything more. Never did I, at any time, call my words "poetry". It's
expression, pure and simple. So is your keyboard bashing. You chose to
operate without the confines of form. So did I. Is the intent any less
valid?
> Your sophomoric, formless verse is just that -- it is noise,
> especially in the context where it was placed.
I agree. That was my intent. (Except for the sophomoric thing... Ouch.)
> Form is function. Function is the vehicle of shared
> experience. Shared experience is the essence of Art and the aim of all
> artists.
So there can be no shared experience without form? Bullshit.
> But you, sir, are a keyboard banger, plain and simple.
Thank you. I try.
> It is not "value" which makes art valuable. It is the enviable
> ability of the artist to explore boldly and *demonstrate compellingly*
> their artistic vision
... from within the confines of form and structure, right?
> "Craft is a universal language.
>
> Craft maintains skill; discipline maintains craft.
>
> Craft follows the tradition;
> discipline maintains the tradition;
> music (Art) invents the tradition by instructing the genius."
>
> Get it?
Yes, I get it. I don't subscribe to the idea, though. Correct me if I'm
wrong, but I believe that what he's saying is that creation (craft)
must follow established guidelines (tradition). That these guidelines
can only be implemented through discipline and training, the foundation
for art. That's his vision, not mine. What about boiling it all down to
get at the essence of creation, the idea? Are his ideas any more valid
than mine just because he follows the above prescription?
> Now take your piano and your mallets and go bang away in some
> other hall where the listeners have as equally noxious, elementary and
> valueless sensibilities as yours.
This is alt.tasteless and alt.pouting.sandwhich, right? Huh. I THOUGHT
I was in the right place...
Psuedo Nimm
>...This is alt.tasteless and alt.pouting.sandwhich, right? Huh. I THOUGHT
>I was in the right place...
My email has been down for TWO days. I come alive again and the first
message I read here is phrased as an axiom or self-evident truth:
alt.tasteless := alt.pouting.sandwhich
alt.pouting.sandwhich := alt.tasteless
Someone please tell me it ain't so...
Proctalgia
> Is the work of John Zorn any less valuable than that of Louis Armstrong?
Obviously.
>
> Are the paintings of Jackson Pollock any less compelling than those of
> the Old Masters?
Definitely.
Enough of this politically correct avoidance of insult. If a chap can't
paint, his paintings are of NO INTEREST to me. Same for music, If you
can't play I'm not listening to you.
Now stop taunting the grown ups or they will get cross.
--
C.
Bill Cleere
Hey, will you kids hold it down in there? We're tryin'
to listen to our Monkees albums, OK?
Dale R Worley
cross-post to.]
In article <190219991914113977%uf...@mindspring.com> BuzzBuzz <uf...@mindspring.com> writes:
Imagine my chagrin when I posted all those lame "freeform"
groups of WORDS masquerading as POETRY!
A few lessons that need to be learned:
1. Poetry, like the piano, is a very easy medium in which to perform
adequately, and an exceptionally difficult medium in which to perform
well. Usually the aspiring poet is burdened with some deep, profound
emotion which he desires to express. So he pukes out a salad of words
with strong emotional connotations. Like most pukings, this makes the
performer feel better but is not edifying to passersby. And
invariably, this profound emotion is one that a few billion people
have experienced before, and hence boring.
Good poetry is a much more difficult art, much like a political speech
-- the poet must *know the audience* and then in a strategic way,
craft a poem which induces the desired state of mind in the audience.
Notice that this act is largely unrelated to the poet's state of mind.
2. Artists that profoundly break the preexisting forms of their art
are almost invariably artists that have completely mastered those
forms, usually at a very young age, but are such geniuses that they
find the possibilities of those forms inadequately interesting. The
canonical example is Picasso, who at the age of 12 or so entered
formal, traditional art school and almost instantly mastered all of
the traditional graphic forms. Elvis Presley studied the American
Black music forms that he would later popularize for a decade or more
before becoming well-known. Similarly, when you find a particularly
way-out musician who nonetheless produces music that you can stand
listening to, you will often find that he studied classical violin at
Juliard, or some such.
3. There are those who advocate avant-garde art forms whose primary
feature is a complete rejection of all traditional scales for
evaluating quality in art. These people are almost invariably people
from upper-middle-class or upper-class backgrounds who were
well-educated (or at least well-schooled) as a matter of course, but
who are too stupid, too lazy, or too untalented to make it in any
field of endeavor. Thus they either live in genteel poverty or live
off remittances, and maintain their social status by acquiring the
patina of "artist".
By rejecting all methods in which their "art" is to be evaluated
(other than by its oddness), they avoid being called to account for
their artistic worthlessness, and thus maintain enough social status
that they can be cool and get laid occasionally. These people spend
most of their efforts maintaining their status as Artists, rather than
actually developing and producing art. These are the people who use
the word "poseur" freely to attack competing "artists", but they *are*
the poseurs.
4. To compare with a subject that our readers may have more
familiarity with, consider the statement "I have written a truly
wonderful program to do XXX, but I have rejected all traditional
concepts for how code should be indented, as they are too confining
and would have prevented me from writing this program." Now it is
just barely possible that a great programmer would discover that there
is a better way to indent code, and discover that his program could be
written better using the new method. But it is unlikely. And
at the very least, such a great programmer has thought through, and
can explain, what the benefits and deficiencies of his new style are
with regard to all of the criteria that have been previously used for
evaluating indentation styles. That is, his rejection of traditional
style is not based on some airy dismissal, but on a thorough and
careful analysis of the situation according to traditional standards.
Are the paintings of Jackson Pollock any less compelling than those of
the Old Masters?
Almost certainly.
Any work which you must acquire an education before you can even
understand why it *looks nice* is a curio for the amusement of an
in-group, not art.
Similarly, professional programmers are pleased, amused, and horrified
by the International Obfuscated C Code Contest, but that does not make
those little programming gems "quality software", since they have no
relationship to any public audience. Any payroll package that an
ordinary office worker can use without wounding himself is a far truer
example of "the programmer's art".
But maybe, just maybe, some of Pollack's canvases will survive the
next three centuries without being thrown on the scrapheap. If so, he
will have proven himself. But personally, I'll bet against it.
Dale
Dale Worley wor...@world.std.com
--
Well, folks, the boss seems to be out pursuing his muse ... with a
stick. -- Michael Jay Tucker, Explosive Cargo, 20 Nov 94
Leo Sgouros
>By rejecting all methods in which their "art" is to be evaluated
>(other than by its oddness), they avoid being called to account for
>their artistic worthlessness, and thus maintain enough social status
>that they can be cool and get laid occasionally. These people spend
>most of their efforts maintaining their status as Artists, rather than
>actually developing and producing art. These are the people who use
>the word "poseur" freely to attack competing "artists", but they *are*
>the poseurs.
>
Ja alt.poser needs this.You are good at it.
The rest of your post was ok but I really love the getting laid part.
Poser.
Perceptor
> artform, willya? I'm a bit lost here. Man, all this is just so
> confusing. Please set me on the right path.
I remember vaguely reading a story where a student of swordsmanship asked
his master what the secret Zen teaching of the sword was.
The master replied: When you are sweeping the floor with a broom, just
sweep. Do nothing else but sweep.