Let's face it, anyone who doesn't think I'm cute must be some kind of jerk. Just ask my girlfriend Lola, pictured below, or my aunts who took me to some botanical gardens rife with crazy sculpture. So many good times, it's sad I don't have the conceptual means to recall it in narrative sequence, but, man, the ineffable dasein of it all was, like, totally hot.
posted by The Leo at 11:29 PM
5 Comments:
I mentioned your follicle-envy theory to Lola and she was right put out, as the Britishers say, on behalf of her shorn sisters. She called me a "knob" (not sure what it means) and then made a kind of prolonged high-pitched ululation, staring straight through me with her brow slightly furrowed. It made me think.
what's going on here? for a good long while, this was one of those placid blogs i'd navigate to in the relentless search for sameness and predictability that is my one means of coping with a mean damn world. and now, there are new pictures, new scribblings! where shall i seek the analgesia of the unchanging?
oh, chager, how little you know of the moving and shaking that goes on beyond your little ken. Learn to read the newness continually renewing itself on this site -- every day, every hour -- between and among the silence. Twit.
"how little you know of the moving and shaking that goes on beyond your little ken"
Ah, so it has finally happened. Leo has reached that charming stage in male development when he begins to compare the size of his "ken" to that possessed by others.
From this point on all intellectual exchanges will be merely thinly veiled sparrings over the relative bigness or smallness of Leo's "ken." The larger the "ken" is, of course, the more impressive will be the "moving and shaking." Given such a kenlogocentric outlook, a career in Academia surely awaits.
Dear Mr. Bryson:
I only just now noticed your outrageous comment. I don't care what you've heard about my ken size: please be assured that my ex-girlfriend Barbie was speaking metaphorically when she compared my anatomy to Ken's.
-- Leo
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