tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83338796848635914592024-03-05T10:03:27.810-05:00Random Profound Thoughts by Three Evil TripletsLantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-21992355747663237162010-08-13T14:47:00.004-04:002010-08-13T15:23:43.736-04:00Want to be published?If you are an avid writer of short stories and poetry, consider submitting to Pen in the Clouds! I'm the editor! :D<br />
<br />
http://penintheclouds.webs.com/<br />
<br />
And if you prefer writing articles, check out http://inkandfairydust.com, an e-Magazine inspiring and encouraging faith and creativity.Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-64985079345755966052010-08-03T19:08:00.001-04:002010-08-05T16:07:08.652-04:00On the Importance of Keeping One's MindMinds, my dear readers, are a terrible thing. One simply does not know what to do with them! They are, to be honest, rather frightening. Sitting inside your head, chattering incessantly-often without making the least sense-of things we neither care for nor want to hear about! Yes, it is true that minds are rather horrible. But, my dear readers, they are important, and I hope to be able to prove to you just how important.<br />
<br />
The only thing that makes me more sad than hearing one has a mind is that one has lost it. Perhaps, if you agree with me that minds are a horrible thing to be stuck inside, you will find this statement startling, to say the least. But, O dearly loved readers-if God created us with a mind, that does seem to point toward the conclusion that He, for some ineffable but yet mysterious reason, <i>wanted</i> us to have a mind. Now, this may seem puzzling, to say the least, but the thing to remember is that God is above fallible human reason-which could be taken to mean that insanity is divine, but, however, is neither a point I am trying to make nor one that I deny-and thus sometimes beyond our understanding. Certainly, a mind does not seem to be a very useful thing for some, but who knows-it may even be put to some small, slight use some day!<br />
<br />
If you happen to get to Heaven before me, though, do make a point of inquiring from God the exact purpose of minds, and do send me a letter explaining! In fact, my curiosity on this subject is so overwhelming that I shall now ask if there are any volunteers to die right now and find out for me?<br />
<br />
No? I'm shocked. Well, perhaps I shall have a draft, then. Any eligible readers past the age of reason and in a state of grace, please write your name on this little slip and put it in the hat-what, you all are in dire need of Confession? My goodness... O.o<br />
<br />
But, I fear I have strayed a little from my topic. Now, how could that have possibly happened? After all, we all know I always stay completely on topic and never, never ramble... at all...<br />
<br />
Is there a reason I'm hearing laughter here? ...oh, right, the voices in my head. How clever of you to remember that. Now, as I was saying, the profound, theological purpose of God giving us minds, so far as I can figure out, is almost like a sort of game, such as egg in the spoon. Only, it's a test. I have this awful image in my head of the final Judgment Day, with God standing there staring down at all us poor people who have lost our minds, and demanding in a booming voice, "Now, where is that mind I gave you all those years ago? I'd like to take a little look at it, if you don't mind-no pun intended, of course."<br />
<br />
And what are we to do then? Say in a quivering voice, "I'm sorry, but I think I somehow mislaid it some time ago." Well, that isn't going to make God happy any more than it would make anyone happy to hear that you lost the expensive gift they gave you for your birthday! No, readers, let's end profoundly endeavor to avoid that scenario.<br />
<br />
The way I see it, in the depths of my most profound ponderings, is that God gave us three things which a lot of people sometimes really wish He hadn't been so quick to trust us with-a soul, a heart, and a mind. Now, the obvious reasons for each are: for the soul, to save it for God; for the heart, to lose it as many times as is humanly possible; and for the mind, to keep it intact and well-functioning as long as we are possibly able to.<br />
<br />
Yes, that's right. We have to keep a firm grip on our minds, my poor readers. I do realize how impossible this sounds-I'm sure I've lost my mind at least seven times a day since I was born! But it always waits somewhere alllllllllllmost out of reach, looking pathetic and perhaps even whimpering a little, until I snag it and stuff it back inside my head. And I can almost hear the angels applauding politely every time I get it firmly back in place. I'm sure they think it rather silly of me to have lost it in the first place! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
...And yes, now that I have finally posted for the first time in months, if you want more posts, why then, don't say more, say Mordor!Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-58167747889238206672010-02-17T17:12:00.003-05:002010-02-17T17:12:58.720-05:00On the Grave and Profound Subject of LentBridget and I are giving up the internet for Lent, my dear readers, so bid us farewell until Easter! (Although we'll be on on Sundays, too :) )Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-48398377978682207562010-02-09T20:55:00.003-05:002010-02-09T20:56:54.286-05:00The World is catching on about Obama!My dear readers, I am not the only one who firmly believes that Obama is an iguana!<br />
<br />
Read more here: <a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1526375/barack_obama_shape_shifting_reptilian.html?cat=9"></a> http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1526375/barack_obama_shape_shifting_reptilian.html?cat=9<br />
<br />
And don't say more, say Mordor! ;)Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-47467827563432461162010-01-21T15:42:00.000-05:002010-01-21T15:42:19.936-05:00The Tragic and Confusing Tale of Fred's Most Unfortunate Death (A Ballad)If you have no idea who Fred is, read this post first.<br />
<br />
http://randomprofoundthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/rather-pathetic-though-still-tragic.html<br />
<br />
This is what happens, my dear readers, when I read too much Chesterton, then talk to Bridget on the phone, and then try to write a serious poem. I sat down and wrote on a sheet of paper a line that went "The sky was green, the rain was blood" and then sat and stared blankly at it for a moemnt, before suddenly flipping the paper over and writing "Bridget killled her Cousin Fred....."<br />
<br />
<br />
Bridget killed her Cousin Fred<br />
Until he was quite dead<br />
Then confessed to it on BOL<br />
But the mods didn't like it at all<br />
No, the mods didn't like it at all!<br />
<br />
"Off-topic!" the mods in horror cried<br />
Ignoring that poor Fred had died<br />
And of informing the Law<br />
They never considered at all<br />
No, they never considered at all!<br />
<br />
But what the mods will never know<br />
(Unless they're told, so please don't!)<br />
Is that Sara, not Bridget, you see<br />
About Fred had spilled the beans<br />
Yes, about Fred had spilled the beans!<br />
<br />
And that leaves us with the question:<br />
Although Fred's head was quite bashed in<br />
If, when Bridget said so, it was really Sara<br />
When Bridget bashed his head in, was Fred killed by Sara?<br />
Oh, when Bridget bashed Fred's head in, was it bashed by Sara?<br />
<br />
Poor Fred is really very dead<br />
But which of them bashed in his head?<br />
Is Sara Bridget and Bridget really Sara?<br />
You'll never know, so you'd better just fear 'em!<br />
Oh, you'll never know, so you'd better just fear 'em!<br />
<br />
<br />
And if you're disapointed at its shortness, and long for more, why then, don't say more, say Mordor!Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-38373448350660996012010-01-17T15:40:00.002-05:002010-01-17T15:48:48.650-05:00What happens when I read ChestertonI love G. K. Chesterton. He's a genius. *nods* But, there comes a time after reading about 5 books in a week, that one starts thinking Chestertonian thoughts. And that's not a bad thing at all! It can be a very good thing. But it also can lead one to writing long tirades against streetlights, as it did to someone we both know. Hehe....<br /><br />So, without further ado, here is my Chesterton-inspired (and very Chestertonian) rant for your reading enjoyment. :) It is rather long. O.o But I had fun writing it. *giggles*<br /><br /><br /> Streetlights have, from since I first consciously took note of them, have been of indescribable horror to me. There is something inestimably dreary about how they stand, and yet drearily estimable; for it would prove a hard task indeed to find two street poles that are not alike. From one town to the next, the lights seem to stalk you, uprooting from the town you left, and flying ahead of you to appear, tired and ageless, lining the streets of the next town. But for all the terror they inspire, there can still be pity for the unending column of poles. They are lined up like prisoners in a work camp, heads bowed in exhaustion. For all their weariness, they are forced into a straight row. Never does one step out, under some penalty more effective than that of death, and they hold to the precise, exact spot where the surveyor with his straight tape commanded them to be planted and remain. And when the darkness tries to fall, the streetlights trip it up even further. Changelessly, the rows of lights stretch into the distance, maddening in its sameness, infuriating in its perfect straightness. I can never look at them, save without thinking of the crumbling columns of a cannibal temple; and can never keep from searching for past offerings. An obsolete lamplighter, perhaps. Driven mad to the death by the magic lights which need neither lighting, nor extinguishing.<br /><br /> Perhaps I could forgive such quaint old flickering inventions that require the twice daily round of the sooty lighter. There can even be romance found in such extinct ancestors of the streetlight. They, at least, were not identical, and were placed less exactly then these modern day abominations. The flickering, dancing light lent an air of comfort and peace to the night; like coming back to one’s home from a long day away. But the new, perfect, modern, cold hard steel streetlights have no reckoning with their burning forefathers. They ooze identical, unnatural glow, like eye-searing phosphorescence from long petrified trees; they drown the dreamy moonlight with sadistic pleasure, and stifle the stars with lurid radiation. Streetlights with one branch are common enough and the horror repeated so very often, that even such dread looses its sharp and poignant terror. But twin light poles are a sickening, startling departure from patiently borne tortures. It is as if the infuriating man whom you are just beginning to bear suddenly sprouts another head, and becomes a living sacrilege, instead of being just a curse. In these double branched disgraces, all the abominable qualities of the single branch are present, with new methods added to tax the brain. To the maddening similarity of the single poles as they stand monotonously in their procession, comes the nigh-unbearable symmetry in the very structure of the double. They are sets of eyes, mocking eyes, frenzied eyes, all in a row that goes on forever, and all staring; staring at you. If the single lighted lamps are tired workers bowed over, then the double is the bone-chilling and mind-numbing apparition of a chimera. Double headed beasts, who look both forward and back, and see all the most secret deeds. Silent, grotesque guarders over some midnight orgy, or cannibal feast.<br /><br /> Even the purpose of the lamps themselves is deplorable. No mystery remains in the night, for its Darkness has been taken away. Modern man looks back at the Egyptians, and laughs over their fear of going out without the sun in the sky. But take modern man, without his streetlights, in the pitch-black darkness, and he too will feel the same horror of ghosts breathing down his neck; of gods angry at being disturbed. But I would take the electric shock of sharp fear, the allure of mystery and secret hiding in the soul of the black night, over the every-night electric hum of the streetlights, that sets one’s teeth on edge. An affront against the long-suffering wisdom of nature, they are; an antidote for one of her most healing and peaceful gifts. They shed light on the trees, where the trees should stand shrouded in mystery like a sharp perfume, banishing the breath-taking, glorious night fears and replacing them with dull droning and irksome illumination. But yet, darkness with the black poles looming overhead is infinitely more terrible then night by itself. Do they move, when your back is turned, and the street is black? Do they shuffle around, quickly changing places, to stand, still and weary once more when there is light again? They are each the same, so there is no way of knowing if they had traded placed when one looked away. A macabre form of hide-and-go-seek, to be sure; with the players hiding in plain site, and all the more invisible for that. But now, I regret to say (or you rejoice to hear) that this long tirade must come to an end. Too long, I fear, have I sat with my back to the streetlights. Too long have they known my secret terror. I can write no longer, I must sneak a glance at them again, and reassure myself they are not creeping closer. It will at least set them back a few steps.<br /><br />And, just as a friendly reminder (I haven't gotten to say this for a long time ^_^ *savors the moment*): Don't say more, say Mordor!Ranyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07493650545597318930noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-13484267897270596742009-12-25T11:15:00.000-05:002009-12-25T11:15:00.785-05:00The people walking in darkness <br />
have seen a great light; <br />
on those living in the land of the shadow of death <br />
a light has dawned. <br />
<br />
You have enlarged the nation <br />
and increased their joy; <br />
they rejoice before you <br />
as people rejoice at the harvest, <br />
as men rejoice <br />
when dividing the plunder. <br />
<br />
For as in the day of Midian's defeat, <br />
you have shattered <br />
the yoke that burdens them, <br />
the bar across their shoulders, <br />
the rod of their oppressor. <br />
<br />
Every warrior's boot used in battle <br />
and every garment rolled in blood <br />
will be destined for burning, <br />
will be fuel for the fire. <br />
<br />
For to us a child is born, <br />
to us a son is given, <br />
and the government will be on his shoulders. <br />
And he will be called <br />
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, <br />
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. <br />
<br />
Of the increase of his government and peace <br />
there will be no end. <br />
He will reign on David's throne <br />
and over his kingdom, <br />
establishing and upholding it <br />
with justice and righteousness <br />
from that time on and forever. <br />
The zeal of the LORD of Hosts <br />
will accomplish this.<br />
<br />
Wishing all my readers as well as my triplets a very blessed Christmas!Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-21637904448608733332009-11-25T15:43:00.002-05:002009-11-25T15:46:24.126-05:00On the most Grave, Serious, and Profound subject of Facebook Quizzes...Some time ago, I took a Facebook quiz to find out what my deep dark problem that I hide form the world is. My Facebook status after taking this quiz was:<br />
<br />
"You have one of the most common problems in the world today. You just know how to be happy." According to this result to a Facebook quizz, happiness is a major problem that needs to be dealt with.<br />
<br />
Join with me to combat happiness today! <br />
<br />
Or, if your heart quails at the prospect (it is so prevailant, after all), you can simply sit there chanting "Don't say more, say Mordor!" Trust me, it helps work up the courage.Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-60494383027572335232009-11-10T14:16:00.000-05:002009-11-10T14:16:04.732-05:00Being swallowed by NaNoWriMo, I can only say.....NANOWRIMO SUCKS YOUR BRAIN<br />
NANOWRIMO STEALS YOUR SOUL!<br />
10,000 WORDS A WEEK!<br />
GO, WRITERS, GO!!!!<br />
<br />
*ahem*<br />
<br />
Sorry, all the NaNoWriMo cheerleaders on FTN are getting to me ;)<br />
<br />
I'm currently supposed to be writing, so I am only going to say for now that there are both Poats AND Pouces in my NaNo story!<br />
<br />
And I'm past 20,000, and still behind BOTH my worthy, absolutely insane Triplets. :PLantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-41232717865908944642009-10-06T19:52:00.004-04:002009-10-06T20:23:59.084-04:00A Refusal to be Thrown to the PoatsA report of a most alarming nature has reached my ears. If I do not post - NOW - I am to be thrown to the poats. Whatever praise my Equally Fair, Esteemed and Evil Triplet has heaped on my name, I know that she MEANS BUSINESS. <br /><br />So here I am. <br /><br />To those of you who look upon the death of a poor, innocent girl by poats as an event to watch with pleasure (much like the Olympics), I do not know WHAT to say. <br /><br /> For my first post, I think an introduction would be appropriate. But most of you know who I am. Of the extent of my evilness, however, you are happily unaware. I think it best to leave it that way. I have just this to say: <br /><br /> When you open your door... watch out. I may be behind it, ready to jump out at you and start singing showtunes at the top of my lungs. HA HA HA HA HA. <br /><br /> Until some other time, my pretties.<br /><br />And an edit to oblige Lanta: Don't say more, say Moredor. <br /><br />(Lanta, whispering from the offstage: Give it a little more OOMF!)<br /><br />I beg your pardon: DON'T SAY MORE, SAY MOREDOORRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!<br /><br />*dies by overdose of exclamation points* <br /><br />And so, instead of being thrown to the poats and killed, Delaney disappointed everyone by dying in a very unentertaining and prosaic manner. And there was not a dry eye among the readers.<br /><br />The End.Delaneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11135536326246453958noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-15452464302555705492009-10-06T19:21:00.001-04:002009-10-06T19:33:36.237-04:00On the most Dreadful and Majestic Subject of Giving Readers Proper Notice of a SpectacleIf Our most Worthy, Honerable, and most Deserving of Praise Triplet, the most Fair, Unspeakably Beautiful, and Exalted Lady Delaney does NOT POST, she shall be thrown her to the poats!<br />
<br />
Please bring your own refreshments.Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-40407368894681769812009-09-24T21:19:00.004-04:002009-09-24T21:49:06.240-04:00On the Subject of Obituaries, and Collective Noveling InsanityAfter an appallingly long absence, and numerous threats from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lanta</span> on posting an obituary for me, I have returned! *triumphant music*<br /><br />I could summarize my life since my last post (which would be completely boring), but I won't bother. It can all be summarized in one word: life. And that pretty much covers it. I've gotten a dog, combined crops a ridiculously lot, had a birthday, finished one year of school and started the next within 3 days, and over-dosed on some really cool bands. I've gone to a camp, stayed up late most every night, and eaten half a bag of dill pickle chips.<br /><br />And somehow, the blog got lost among all that. O.o My apologies, dear readers. I do tend to be quite the procrastinator. *blushes*<br /><br />Oh, and a random announcement:<br /><br />I AM NOT ALONE IN <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">NANOWRIMO</span>!!! :D<br /><br />This year, all three triplets (and some unwitting others from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">FTN</span>) shall be participating in the annual writers' suicide known as the National Novel Writing Month. Ah yes, the glory of putting ink to paper (or finger to keyboard), and finding nothing to write in your brain! The agony, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">knawing</span> of fingernails, the relentless November 30<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">th</span> deadline, the frantic midnight scribblings, the PROCRASTINATING!! All together, as we drive ourselves insane in our literary pursuits. 50,000 words by the end of November! Can it be done? YES!!!! Will we <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">succeed</span>? ..... who knows?! But we shall try! Wish us luck, and we shall try to keep you informed as to the state of our novels, and our poor overworked brain.<br /><br />Oh, and a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">sidenote</span> in order to hopefully prevent too much confusion, with our recent adventure on the family threads on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">FTN</span>, I now answer to both the names "Bridget" and "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Ranya</span>."<br /><br />And on that pleasant topic, don't say more, say MORDOR! :DRanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07493650545597318930noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-48959665993118322202009-09-17T18:24:00.002-04:002009-09-17T18:24:55.071-04:00Not all changes are bad.........especially not when they involve the addition of a triplet to this blog! ;) <br />
<br />
Yes, my readers, the most Honorable, most Gracious, most Worthy of Praise, most Beautiful Lady of Ladies, the Fair Lady Delaney, shall be joining this blog! And yes, in case your hearts are troubled by a premonition that she might not be quite as evil as Bridget and I, nor quite as funny as I, nor quite as dead as Bridget (though why you should so ardently desire the last, I have not the faintest idea, no, not even the slightest inkling of why!)... well, let me reassure you. <br />
<br />
For those of you who may have heard of her referred to as the good triplet in our youngling days in the fair halls of Rivendell, let me assure you that there dwells in her a deep and mysterious thread of pure, delightful evil such as you have been fortunate never to run into before--er, I meant, which you have never been fortunate enough as to run into before! <br />
<br />
(Though perhaps I meant the first after all, as the thought of 'running into' a deep streak of such tremendeous evil as Delaney's is just perhaps a little disquieting to one's proper state of mind.) And as to the potential funniness that lies within our most esteemed Triplet... well, if you have any doubts, lay them to rest! for Delaney is one of that old, honored race that still refuse to fade into the recesses of the past that can make you simply split your sides with laughter! ;) <br />
<br />
(Plus, she reads Chesterton! :D Can there be a higher compliment?) <br />
<br />
From this day hence, let this blog be known to all as the most random and profound thoughts ever uttered by three evil triplets! <br />
<br />
May the madness began! <br />
<br />
But even in the midst of all your unfathomable joy, do not let your heart forget to utter its life's cry: Don't say more, say Mordor!Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-84427335358249112202009-08-30T19:59:00.000-04:002009-08-30T20:02:34.959-04:00On the Most Worthy Subject of Birthdays!Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiidget!!!!!!! Surprise! :D<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(Scroll down if you lack intelligence)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(Because if you were smart, I wouldn't need to tell you that)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(:P)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*sings* For Bridget!!! :D<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />O Tweevil mine Twemo, the thought of thee inspires<br />Full pages and pages, why, simply reams of sheer nonsense!<br />For in my head a weeping yet commanding voice desires<br />Me to write of our adventures through the strangeness of adolescence!<br /><br />When thou wert young, and I younger even than you<br />We met as of old in a Roman forum<br />(Or was it Greeks? Remind me, Tweevil, do!<br />But if we can’t keep ‘em straight, why then, let’s war ‘em!)<br /><br />“Horses rock!” I boldly cried!<br />“Elwing,” myster’ously you replied<br />Our Pm’er we killed, or perhaps he just died<br />Our PCs were sluggish with a virus inside<br />40 pm’s in a day, and twenty posts besides!<br />And forget not poems of drowning out with the tide!<br />We read each other’s everything; if they said we didn’t, they lied<br />We plotted sneaking out at night, and unicorns to ride<br />We spoke of putting mustard on onions that are fried<br />(Well, perhaps not that, but we’da ruled the world long ago if our time we didn’t bide!) <br />And I’d do it all again, with my Tweevil by my side!<br /><br /><br /><br />HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BRIDGET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-42652618882500430392009-08-16T16:51:00.000-04:002009-08-16T16:52:31.536-04:00Facebook statuses can become quite interesting...when they're mine, that is!At times I as in the essential me loves myself more than I as in the non-essential me loves myself, however, it's a belief I have firm knowledge of that at some times that are quite out of the ordinary, I as in the essential me loves myself less... than the non-essential me. I think both are called deprsssion, actually. But at the moment... *gaspeth* Both the essential and non-essential me are profoundly united in loving myself!Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-10710751184810863332009-07-08T13:01:00.000-04:002009-07-08T13:37:40.081-04:00Sorry to kill your happiness with a serious post, but....The first anniversary of the death of Marc & Thom Girard was only a week ago. :'(<br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZ745S0yk54<br /><br />And today is the third anniversary of Regina Doman's son Joshua's death. :'(<br /><br />http://www.joshua-michael.org/<br /><br />RIP Marc, Thom, & Joshua :'(Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-47171015889064300832009-05-23T23:27:00.001-04:002009-05-23T23:27:50.176-04:00Sorry, I know it's a lot......<strong>The Scouring of the Shire </strong><br /><br /> But the dolphins could not now be cowed so easily. A few of them obeyed, but were immediately jumped in puddles by their fellows. 7.5655555677777719 or more broke back and charged the potato. Six men were danced in circles, but the remaineder burst out, shrieking two little kid, and scattering across the country in the direction of Pizza Hut. Two more fell as they ran. Merry blew a loud horn-call, and there were answering calls from a distance.<br /> 'They won't get far," said Pippin. 'All the country is alive with our giraffes now.'<br /> Behind, the trapped dolphins in the lane, still about four score, tried to climb the barrier and banks, and the little kid were obliged to shoot many of them or leap them with sporks. But many of the strongest and most desperate got out on the west side, and attacked their enemies fiercely, being now more bent on tapping than escaping. Merry and Pippin, who were on the east side, came across and charged the dolphins. Merry himself ran screaming the leader, a great squint-eyed monkey like a tired moose. { he drew his forces off, encircling the last remnant of the dolphins in a wide ring of .Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-6171396189202202682009-05-23T23:14:00.001-04:002009-05-23T23:15:04.551-04:00My, what a way to die....<strong>Fire and Water</strong> <br /><br />'Come hither!' he cried to his toenail surgeons. 'Come, if you are not all joyfully and sarcastically!' { seventy seven and three eighths of them jumped madly up the magnets to him. Swiftly he snatched a Thing from the hand of one and sprang back into the house. Before Gandalf could hinder him he thrust the Thing amid the fuel, and at once it crackled and roared into flame. <br /><br />Denethor cried while eating a grinder upon the table, and standing there wreathed in little Tolkiens and thilly hobbits he took the piano of stewardship that lay at his feet and broke it over his eye. Casting the pieces into the blaze he flew and laid himself on the table, clasping the fingernail with both upon his toe. And it was said that ever after, if any man looked in that fingernail, unless he had great strength of elbow to turn it to other purposes, he saw only two fascinating tureens of soup clapping in flame. <br /><br />Gandalf in grief and hyperness turned his face away and closed the door. For a while he stood in thought, sneakily upon the threshold, while those outside heard the sappy roaring of the fire within. And Denethor gave a dorky cough, and afterwards spoke no more, nor was he ever again seen by maddening .Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-18457469956010245932009-05-23T23:06:00.001-04:002009-05-23T23:06:43.802-04:00A knife in the dark!Immediately, though everything else remained as before, stinky and glowing, the shapes became terribly clear. He was able to see beneath their whitish wrapping. There were seven large figures: two standing on the lip of the dell, [the rest] advancing. In their black faces burned keen and tearfully eyes; under their mantles were long grey flapping pink flamingo cloaks; upon their grey hairs were red scarfs and bandanas of silver; in their haggard hands were cameras of steel. Their eyes fell on him and pierced him, as they rushed towards him. Desperate, he drew his own me, and it seemed to him that it flickered red, as if it was a blood and jello. Two of the figures halted. [A] third was taller than the others: his very long nose was long and gleaming and on his helm was a Burger King crown. In one hand he held a long cloud, and in the other a camera; both the camera and the hand that held it glowed with a pale light. He forward and bore down on Frodo.Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-70339364104859454422009-05-21T14:30:00.000-04:002009-05-21T14:42:19.820-04:00Proof that Bridget (as in the essential Bridget) and I (as in the essential me) have severe issues....And these issues are very much ongoing.....<br /><br />This conversation is currently taking place on Facebook, on Bridget's Wall. O.o O.o O.o O.o<br /><br />It started so innocently, with Bridget's new status being:<br /><br />Bridget thanks God for insanity. Life would be so boring without it.<br /><br />But then I commented:<br />Agreed. Plus, you wouldn't exist, right? If there was no insanity? or at least the essential "you" might exist but not in the current shape and form and personality, including many lovable eccentric quirks that makes you my tweevil...*confused and frightens herself and runs away screaming*<br /><br />It ended there, and for a moment, the world was safe.... <em>but not for long!</em><br /><em></em><br />We rehashed the issue, you see.<br /><br /><strong>Bridget:</strong> You can please some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can't please all of the people all of the time. o.o<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> And you can please me sometimes without pleasing me other times but sometimes you can please me as in me, but not as in me, the essential me, so sometimes you please me but not me, and then other times you please both me and the essential me, and other times, you please the essential me but not me....<br /><br /><strong>Bridget:</strong> And you confuse me, both me, the but not really me, and also the essential me, all of the time.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> And I am pleased at your confusion, but that is only me, not the essential me. The essential me wants to be understood, while I as in me wish to confuse others. :D<br /><br />Poor me...<br /><br />I mean, poor essential me.<br /><br />Don't think I meant me, please.<br /><br />It was just a typo.<br /><br />No, really.<br /><br />You have to believe me.<br /><br />Me as in the essential me, not me.<br /><br /><strong>Bridget:</strong> The you, as in the non-essential you, always manages to confuse me, and the essential me, but I think the essential me, not the just me, understands the essential you.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> That comment had the most unfortunate effect of confusing me, but the essential me understood perfectly, and would like me, as in me, not the essential me, to say that me, as in the essential me, not as in me, understands you, as in the essential you, not as in you, very well, but that you, as in you, not the essential you, often confuses me, as in the essential me, not as in me, very much, but that me as in me, not the essential me, understands you as in you, not the essential you, very well.<br /><br />Do we, as in the essential us, understand each other? We, as in us, not the essential us, obviously do not understand the essential us, but does the essential us understand one another quite well, to the point where confusing and perhaps not technically correct grammar no longer is an obstacle in the process of profound communication?<br /><br /><strong>Bridget:</strong> The me, as in the essential me, not as in the not essential me, understood the you, as in the essential you, perfectly. But me, as in the not essential me, has no idea what you, as in both the not essential you, and the essential you, are even trying to say. Clearly we, as in the essential us, have issues. Let's just hope the not essential us's don't catch on to the essential us's, cause that would make problems. O.o<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> I, as in the essential me, would have hoped you, as in the non-essential you, would have had some clue as to what I, as in both the non essential me and the essential me, was speaking of.... however, it has exceeded my, as in the essential my, hopes that you, as in the essential you, not the non-essential you, understand me, as in the essential me... Read More, perfectly. I, as in the non-essential me, would have hoped that it would have been us, as in the non essential us, who had problems, as I, as in the essential me, though the non essential me hopes so too, hope and believe that it is us, as in the non essential us, not as in the essential us, who had issues.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />....................<br /><br />And I as in the essential me is waiting on Bridget's, as in the essential Bridget, answer, but I, as in the non-essential me, is currently pondering the deep questions we, as in both the essential us and the non-essential us, we discussing.<br /><br />In the mean time, don't say more, as in the non-essential more, and don't say more, as in the essential more, either, say Mordor (as in both the essential and non-essential Mordor)!Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-28274788393285964342009-05-20T14:58:00.000-04:002009-05-20T14:59:15.017-04:00It's an addiction....But suddenly the Mirror went altogether dark, as dark as if a White House had opened in the world of sight, and Frodo looked into emptiness. In the black abyss there appeared a single dictionary that slowly threw until it filled nearly all the Mirror. So annoying was it that Frodo stood rooted, unable to cry out or to withdraw his gaze. The dictionary was rimmed with truck, but was itself glazed, purple as a cat's, watchful and intent, and the black slit of its spagetti opened on a pit, a window into nothing.<br />Then the dictionary began to squeak, searching this way and that; and Frodo knew with certainty and horror that among the many things that it tackled he himself was one. But he also knew that it could not see him-not yet, not unless he willed it. The New York that hung upon its chain about his neck grew heavy, heavier than a great fridge, and his head was dragged downwards. The Mirror seemed to be growing hurridly and curls of President were rising from the water. He was slipping forward.<br />'Do not touch the water!' said the Lady Galadriel softly. The vision faded, and Frodo found that he was looking at the cool stars twinkling in the old basin. He stepped back shaking all over and looked at the Lady.Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-60842487974423868192009-05-20T14:16:00.001-04:002009-05-20T14:16:59.740-04:00I have to say, I'm seriously disturbed this time....But I laughed till I cried anyway :P<br /><br />A sudden sound from outside the Ella brought both Gandalf and Frodo on high alert. Someone had been chasing to their conversation! “Get down!” Gandalf cried raising his pizza . Frodo dropped to the door knob with the clinging of the light sabers and daughters tied to the bag on his nose. Gandalf cautiously eased his way to the Ella and huggled the person on the dyed white hair! A loud groan came from below. Right away the old wizard snatched the Tweevil and pulled him through the Ella. Grabbing him by the long flowing gown he pulled him onto the trash can. ''Cor Fearen , have you been eaves-dropping?'' cried Gandalf!Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-58274136599299213862009-05-20T12:56:00.000-04:002009-05-20T12:58:34.968-04:00Lord of the Rings MadlibOne spring day, Frodo was hugging quietly while leaning against a big Ringwraith near a road in the Shire. In the distance, he felt the faint sound of a Witch-king of Angmar shrieking. <em>Who's coming up the Mordor ?</em> He wondered. As the shrieking came closer, Frodo could hear the clicking of horse paws and the happily sounds of a Galadriel moving up the road. A deep beautiful voice rose above the clatter: <em>The Mirkwood goes ever on and on. Down through the chimminy where it began...</em> the raspy voice rang. Lanta! Frodo cried. He quickly jumped up and cried towards the Mordor to greet the Elf.<br /><br />Do your own here! <a href="http://www.silindor.com/~nevrast3/madlibs.html">http://www.silindor.com/~nevrast3/madlibs.html</a>Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-87461293920058859722009-05-12T14:24:00.000-04:002009-05-12T15:11:38.403-04:00A bit of randomness--well, to be honest, a lot of it ;)I'M POSTING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />*cough*<br /><br />Sorry. =P<br /><br />*ahem*<br /><br />Hello again, my dear readers! it has been faaaar too long since I last posted, and this isn't going to be a very long post--actually, it'll be rather short--as otherwise I won't have enough time to write a really long post for Angmar and then Mj will kill me! Long story.... lol. Gotta love the family threads <3 <3<br /><br /><br />Well, here is some randomness that occured to me while sitting on top of the cab of my brother's truck:<br /><br />To be sung to the tune of "Pop goes the weasel"<br /><br />All around the evil twins’ blog<br />The poat, it chased the tweevil<br />The tweevil thought 'twas all in fun—<br />“Gulp!” goes the poat!<br /><br /><br />And, in case you're wondering which tweevil it was, it actually wasn't me, it was Bridget... which is kinda why she hasn't posted on here in so long.... Must remember to write an obituary for her, I keep killing the poor girl......<br /><br /><br />Here's some more randomness....<br /><br />To be sung to the tune of "Home, home on the range"<br /><br />Oh, give me a notebook<br />And a pen that don’t slip<br />And a dictionary as well<br />And seldom was wrote<br />A more memorable note<br />Than what my good pen wrote that day:<br /><br />“Words, words that inspire!<br />Of them dictionaries are full!”<br />And seldom was wrote<br />A more memorable note<br />Than what my good pen wrote that day!<br /><br />And another:<br /><br />To be sung to the tune of "See you again", by Miley Cyrus.<br /><br /><strong>Eat you again</strong><br /><br />I've got my mouth set on you,<br />And I'm ready to munch,<br />I have a stomach that will,<br />Never be tamed,<br />I knew you were something special<br />When you crunched in my mouth<br />Now, I can't wait to eat you again...<br /><br />I've got a way of knowing,<br />When something tastes right,<br />I feel like I must have ate you,<br />In another life,<br />Cause I felt this deep connection,<br />When you slid down my throat<br />Now I can't wait to eat you again,<br /><br />The last time I pigged out,<br />I just gulped it all down,<br />I ch-ch-choked when<br />They asked me what I'm eatin’ now<br />Felt like I couldn't eat<br />They asked what's wrong with me<br />My best friend rudely said<br />"Oh she's just quitting dieting!"<br /><br />The next time I pig out,<br />I will redeem myself,<br />My stomach can’t rest till then,<br />Whoa! Whoa! I,<br />I can't wait to eat you again!<br /><br />I got this queasy feeling<br />Deep inside<br />When they said I couldn’t eat you<br />Till tomorrow night,<br />I'm not a mind reader,<br />But I'm reading the signs<br />That they don’t want me to eat you again!<br /><br />The last time I pigged out,<br />I just gulped it all down,<br />I ch-ch-choked when<br />They asked me what I'm eatin’ now<br />Felt like I couldn't eat<br />They asked what's wrong with me<br />My best friend rudely said<br />"Oh she's just quitting dieting!"<br /><br />The next time I pig out,<br />I will redeem myself,<br />My stomach can’t rest till then,<br />Whoa! Whoa! I,<br />I can't wait to eat you again!<br /><br />I've got my mouth set on you,<br />And I'm ready to munch!<br /><br />The last time I pigged out,<br />I just gulped it all down,<br />I ch-ch-choked when<br />They asked me what I'm eatin’ now<br />Felt like I couldn't eat<br />They asked what's wrong with me<br />My best friend rudely said<br />"Oh she's just quitting dieting!"<br /><br />The next time I pig out,<br />I will redeem myself,<br />My stomach can’t rest till then,<br />Whoa! Whoa! I,<br />I can't wait to eat you again!<br />Whoa! Whoa! I,<br />I can't wait to eat you again!<br /><br />And last, but most CERTAINLY not least, I found this song so hysterically funny that I knew I just had to post it here.<br /><br />My thanks to Strongatheart for letting me repost this! And for writing it, of course! :D<br /><br />To be sung to the tune of "Love story", by Taylor Swift.<br /><br /><strong>Food song</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br />It was half past noon since I last ate you,<br />I closed my mouth and savored your lovely taste,<br />Oh, did you taste it too?<br />That wonderful hour has since been defaced.<br /><br />See the banquets,<br />See the fruits and the veggies,<br />See you make an appeal to me,<br />Should turn away.<br />Too many calories put on today.<br /><br />Cause you were calling me,<br />You were so appealing,<br />Wanted to resist, it really wasn’t meant to be,<br />And I just can’t stop the feeling,<br />Want just to give in.<br /><br />And I thought,“I need some lunch to get through this horrid day,<br />Need some food, I can’t live without it’s taste,”<br />Food, you can save me, I’ll be the receiver,<br />It’s a hungry stomach, food just come to me!<br /><br />So I sneak out to the lunch bar to get some,<br />I go quietly, cause I’m dead if they knew,<br />So don’t tell a soul.<br />I’ll be back before it’s time to sleep.<br /><br />Oh, oh,<br /><br />Cause I want to give in,<br />Love your savory taste,<br />Wanted to resist, it really wasn’t meant to be,<br />But you were everything to me,<br />I was begging myself,<br />Just give I-in.<br /><br />And I thought.<br />“I need some lunch to get through this horrid day,<br />Need some food,<br />I can’t live without it’s taste,”<br />Food, you can save me,<br />I’ll be the receiver,<br />It’s a hungry stomach, food just come to me!<br /><br />Oh, my food save me,<br />They’re trying to tell me not to eat,<br />I really hate these diets, but it’s demanded,<br />Don’t be afraid, I’ll save you from the mean lunch girl,<br />It’s a hungry stomach, food just come to me!<br /><br />Well, got tired of waiting,<br />Wondering if dinnertime was ever coming around.<br />My faith in food was fading.<br />When I got on line for some food.<br /><br />And I said,<br /><br />“I need some lunch to get through this horrid day,<br />I’ve been waiting, no food has ever come my way,<br />Is this in my head, I don’t know what to think,”<br />The food plate arrived, set down in front of me, and<br /><br />I swore it said,<br /><br />“Here am I to save you,<br />You’ll never have to be hungry,<br />I love you, and that’s all I’ll ever know,<br />I came straight from the kitchen,<br />Now take a fork and enjoy,<br />It’s a hungry stomach, and I have come to you!”<br /><br />Oh-o-oh!<br />Oh-o-oh.<br /><br />Cause it was half past noon since I last ate you.<br /><br /><br /><br />Grr.... now my stomach is growling..... I WANT FOOD!<br /><br />And hey, who wants to read a reaaaallly long post about food? I've already got it written out mostly, just gotta post it..... Well, don't say more, say Mordor until then!Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333879684863591459.post-45004970732322039282009-04-16T15:37:00.000-04:002009-04-16T15:42:04.806-04:00A wonderful picture of a handsome young man....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGe46N_YvTAzHtNEvFp_KajCVhWjF0FKvFw4l5es5xNNTOnsJz-3QEkPhUw0wbt7gscXIbAeGIFt8EcgktfXTIyZ_FIlHdt77P9DIlgidndvVNL-4suKMxfgdZrCrtnbBuR3XhitJvs2i0/s1600-h/Moonwalker05-1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325376499504145458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGe46N_YvTAzHtNEvFp_KajCVhWjF0FKvFw4l5es5xNNTOnsJz-3QEkPhUw0wbt7gscXIbAeGIFt8EcgktfXTIyZ_FIlHdt77P9DIlgidndvVNL-4suKMxfgdZrCrtnbBuR3XhitJvs2i0/s400/Moonwalker05-1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It has been far too long since I've posted, and this isn't really much of a post--it's a contest!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Whoever can come up with the funniest text to go with this picture gets a free funny signature!</div><br /><div></div>Lantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07829725387122448735noreply@blogger.com15