The long, slow journey to the St. Vitus Mental Ward continues.
O, that this too too solid flesh would melt
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
Hamlet
11 comments:
You f'ing made this up, right?
I f-ing kid you not.
It's like Mrs. Doyle on Father Ted.
Get her to a nunnery, yo.
"at some point doesn't f-ing seem like a complete waste"
Only if you're doing it right.
Oh, the irony of K-Lo mourning wasted syllables. You could say the same for her entire writing career.
Same for "blessed".
Is it legal for the idea of K-Lo and the physical act of f-ing to be considered as one?
Then, again the concept of K-Lo and sex is about as repulsive as a "romantic" evening at the Sudermans.
Can't you just see the vision of an overweight little boy in a Catholic prep school uniform standing up in his classroom Tuesday afternoon and yelling:
"K-Lo twittered f-ing! I'm gonna tell the teacher! K-Lo twittered fing! I'm gonna tell the teacher!"
Not when our country, our economy and our politics are all so f-cked up...
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