Loading ...I was just having a gander at some popular searches that lead people to my site. Most of them are self-explanatory. A search for the johor hominid or 3D crop circle will generally take you to a page on the Noumenal News. Baker-Miller pink - I’ve spoken of that many times on the old Shattered Prayer. Lots of stuff on Necromunda, Warhammer 40K, and Confrontation can be found on Anthony’s old Confrontation site, no longer updated, but its still lurking around here somewhere.
A search for philosophy blog or computer animated porn will take you to Pi’s old blog that his wife won’t let him update anymore.
I guess the weirdest search that brought someone to my site would be “black and white” shot of the princess receiving oxygen in the wreckage of the car crash that killed her
Huh? Could you maybe be a little more specific?
Now lemme get something straight. Jessica Simpson and Britney Spears do not exist in my universe. Now I’m not claiming my universe is some kind of paradise, in fact its a bit like a hell-dimension but at least there’s no Jessica Simpson or Britney Spears.
However, I do occasionally read the news from your universe. I have to, to acquire cultural references, because people from your universe would not understand the cultural references from my universe. “Haha… the redlegged pandemons that lick the stones of the ruins of the Hyche continuum… haha.. you’re so funny.”
See?
Well I read about the whole thing with Britney Spears snubbing Jessica Simpson after Jessica Simpson asked to kiss Britney’s belly. So they’re my cultural references for the day. Them and Homer Simpson, who I’m sure is related to Jessica. Doh!
And yeah I reckon Britney has every right to tell Jessica to fuck off, but lets face it, Jessica was only making the assumption that Britney, like every other pregnant woman on the face of the earth, loves the attention.
I don’t even want to hear any arguments from you pregnant women. You love it, you know it. Being pregnant makes you feel special, as if their something special about shooting forth the 7 billionth human being from your loins. You can complain all you want about people treating your big belly like public property, but you know you secretly love the attention. It sets you apart, even though half the human population can accomplish the same thing, and all you really did was spread your legs and forget to take your pill.
If you didn’t love the attention, you wouldn’t be out in public, complaining to total strangers about every aspect of your disea… uh… I mean pregnancy. The cravings, the nausea, the swollen ankles, the urinary incontinence. Frankly, I don’t want to hear it.
“Why just last week”, says the pregnant lady I’ve never met before, “I ate a whole kaolin pie and shit white for four days straight.”
Yeah thanks for THAT image. I’m going to have nightmares for months now. I think after saddling me with grotesque imagery like that, the woman should at least allow me to cop a belly-feel, if not render unto me the soul of her unborn.
Its been a while since I’ve been rendered an unborn soul.
But women are even worse after the damned thing is born. (I mean damned metaphorically, though if its soul has been rendered unto me, I mean it literally).
New mom: Here hold the baby.
Me: I don’t want to hold the baby.
New Mom: Of course you DO! Here, hold out your arms like this…
Me: No
New Mom: Come on! Isn’t he cute?
Me: Get that fucking thing away from me!
So folks, it wasn’t Jessica’s fault. I’m not much of one for giving Jessical Simpson a break about anything, but in this case, she deserves a break. She’s was just acting on an assumption based on the behavior of a billion new moms out there, all of whom want the rest of us to pay attention to their “miracle”.
By the way, Jessica Simpson may not exist in my universe, but Homer Simpson (and family) does. In fact, they live next door. I buy my drugs from Ned Flanders.
  
  
  
Buy me a beer!
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While I contemplate the oxygen given to the Princess at the moment of her death, I wonder, “Why black and white?” Color too graphic? Not graphic enough?
There was a commercial a few years back of fellow Georgian Jimmy Carter in which he spoke solemnly about something, and it was presented in black and white to add to the solemnity. I remember thinking “He looks so old!” I saw him later in color, and he was much younger looking. Sometimes black and white can be harsh.
I’ve also noticed that whenever someone announces they are pregnant (I’m pregnant!) then suddenly there are 700 stories about the worst possible thing that could have gone wrong during the delivery/trimesters/conception.
Stories I have heard (or told) about someone in one of those states.
“We went at it so heard, that he knocked me off the bed. Then I knew I was pregnant.”
“You’re in your first trimester? Most miscarriages happen then.”
“The fetus calcified, and the woman carried it for 37 years. It kept growing as layers of calcium lay down around it.”
“I knew someone whose baby died within her, and they made her carry it for another month. And then they made her delivery it vaginally.”
It is almost as if the speaker is trying to shock the woman into miscarrying so they can tell another story — “I told her the deliverying the month old dead baby story, and it shocked her so much, that she miscarried. Y’all, I’m not joking. I’m not making this up. It really happened. You better be careful. That could happen to you. When’s it due? Because I knew this one woman whose baby was born over a month late, and the baby’s fingernails had wrapped down over her fingers. It was awful! That could happen to you.”
I think whenever someone gets pregnant, the pregnant woman, plus everyone around the pregnant woman goes nuts. People tell stories like that to be cruel. Its just a defense mechanism because they know they’re going to be hearing kaolin-pie stories.
I couldn’t find a “Cooking with Kaolin” book by the way.
That’s because no one should be cooking with Kaolin! It’s a clay mineral, for crying out loud. That woman gets what she gets for eating a pie made from white clay!
And whenever someone mentions Kaolin, someone has to talk about the Kaolin mines, and how so and so’s third cousin went swimming in them, drowned, and was never heard from again.
Yes yes, Richard I know what Kaolin is. My dad worked in those Kaolin mines. I’ve heard all the stories.
Especially from kids at school whose dads also worked in kaolin mines.
“Ooooo.. those kaolin quarries are BOTTOMLESS. And so-and-so’s third cousin went swimming in one and drowned and they NEVER FOUND HIS BODY because.. you know… bottomless…”
The reason I mentioned kaolin pie, and Cooking with Kaolin is because so many women claim to develop pica during pregnancy. (pica is defined by the Health Info website as “the persistent eating of non-nutritive substances [such as paint, string, hair, animal droppings, insects, soil] for over a month. The behavior must be developmentally inappropriate and not part of a culturally sanctioned practice.”
, and in the south a lot of women claim to be struck by cravings for clay (both the red and the white), though I think its probably just another way to draw attention to the fact that they’re about to shoot out that 7 billionth human being from their loins.
Friend of mine -she’s a doctor- had to check a woman who’d just give bitrth:”Can i have another baby soon doctor?”
Well, you just had your 18th.. And it was your 17th c-section.. Sure!
She waggled out to here husband. “Ohh, it’s a miracle! Doctor says we must have another baby soon!”
Was she either a very devote Christian or an addict to the chemical inbalances?
18 kids isn’t a miracle, is a protoplasm-factory on legs.
18 kids? I’d never remember their names. Hell, after that many I wouldn’t remember my own name.
Which reminds me of a story of Ross forgetting his own name… oh.. gotta go write that one down….
I knew you knew what Kaolin is. You cannot live in Macon GA and not know what Kaolin is. I just stand by my assertion that she gets what she gets for eating a pie made out of kaolin!
I’m not at all sure where to go with this topic, but suffice it to say I have never heard the word “kaolin” that many times in my entire life. Still, I am not FROM Georgia, so perhaps that explains it. Maybe in Georgia, it is a common reference, such as,
“How’s the weather down in Savannah, Bill?”
“Oh, you know, hot as kaolin on a black tin roof in Ju-ly, Jeb. How’s Augusta?”
“Well, it’s hot, but we ain’t got much kaolin due to the fact that some other state is nearby and they ain’t got much kaolin. I think that state’s called South Carolina, but I can’t be sure”
“Yeah, I reckon it’s called South Carolina, but I ain’t never been up there to that Yankee state. I had a cousin what moved to North Carolina, but I don’t know what happened to him. We don’t talk about him no more, bein’ he’s a traitor and all.”
“Good God Almighty, we’ve gone at least 30 seconds without mentionin’ kaolin! We gotta say it ten times now to make up for it! Kaolin, kaolin, kaolin… [it goes on ad nauseum...]”
“Whew, I reckon we dodged a bullet on that one. I can’t believe we didn’t say kaolin for so long. Well, I’ll see you later; I gotta go pick up some kaolin for my squash garden.”
“Sounds good. Kaolin ya later, buddy.”
I could be off base, but that’s how I imagined it. Other than pies, has this kaolin any practical use? Presumably, it is made of something toxic or else it wouldn’t be a state treasure?
Top o’ the kaolin to ya, J the Only.
Yes, you’ve pretty much summed up the nuances of conversation in Georgia.
Kaolin does have its uses. I used to go to the train-yard and pick up the lumps of kaolin that fall from the kaolin trains, and bring it home and use it to make home-made herb (and kaolin) facial masks.
And yer right of course, about the suspicion with which georgians regard folk who move up to them yankee states like south carolina and tennersee.
Or florida. cuz hell, florida may be south of us but its fulla damn yankees.
R the P committed downright sacriledge when he not only moved in with a carolina yankee, but moved all the way up to one a them unspeakable far northern lands. Cain’t quite remember the name of it, but if it starts with “New”, you know its bad. Anything new is bad.
But I reckon I did an even worse thing by moving ‘cross the ocean to one a’them furreign lands. With furreigners! Then when I moved back I went right to Louisiana. Ain’t nothin’ but a buncha frenchies round them parts.
its obvious there weren’t enough kaolin in my blood to keep me tied to the land of kaolin.
But its real good fer yer skin.