Son of the Star of the Sea, Lord of the Storm






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Katie Walks Into a Bar...

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If you happened to be on fb two weeks ago, your news feed may have suffered an overload from one of my statuses (sorry Ian!).  If you missed all the fun though, please enjoy the edited, picture version here (no, I am not going to subject myself to retyping all 83 comments, you'll just have to go back to the status if you want the whole story). Catherine and I created a delightfully fictitious bar, where men are gentleman: they give you their seat and they buy you a drink.  More importantly, they are all gorgeous and famous and rich and heroic.  (Is that too much to ask for?) In the beginning, I said Archie Goodwin should be there.  No sooner had I suggested this than Catherine claimed him in a most selfish manner, stating:  "I get him. Because I knew about him first and because h is long standing girlfriend was a blonde so therefore he'll pick me anyways." ... First I countered with: " GAH. FINE. be that way. but you know Archie had brunettes on the sid...
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Goldilocks and the Three Bears' Bathtub

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 This is the story of Goldilocks. And three absent bears.  And a very big bathtub. So you all know the beginning of the story... The three bears, Momma, Papa, and Baby, go for a morning stroll down the path to the right, while waiting for their porridge to cool.  And since they were very honest, trusting bears, they left their front door unlocked. Meanwhile, up the other side of the road, a little girl came traipsing along.   And since she was a very rude little girl, upon seeing a door just her size, she walked right in, without so much as a knock! And since she was very dusty, and a little grubby, and feeling just generally sticky after wandering so far from her house that morning, she decided to use the bathroom to wash her face. When she found the bathroom, however, there was a marvelously grand and enormous bathtub, with fancy jets, a sleek faucet, and a full bottle of bubbles sitting right there on the edge of the tub!  It was too much...
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Some older stuff...

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First, the "Flying Fork" as requested by Kat: The story of the Flying Fork is this, I was in the makeshift kitchen of my dorm room with my girls (it was March of Senior Year) and I hit a fork accidentally and it went flying.  Not that exciting, I know, but I get good reactions from the picture. Next we'll have a Freudian picture: Welcome to the Id, Ego, and Superego. The Id is death, the Ego is attracted to it, and the Superego (the part of you that is supposed to be socially acceptable/adjusted) is turning away from it. Freud was a scary guy. Next we'll have one for Meg. It's all about how much you love the sacrifice: Kierkegaard's Abraham and Isaac ( Fear and Trembling and the Sickness Unto Death ). Don Quixote for me:   Modernity has sacrificed the purity of idealism to the reality of the age. Here's one for American Lit fans: And here's a tribute to the Winter: Winter sunrises are the best. =]
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