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04/06/01 (continued)
damn how much poetry is there?...

One haiku from Julie:


kick ass karaoke
hot Copperfield,
skinny cat terribly happy!


A piece of brilliance from Justin:


terribly happy is that pair of scissors
with the rolled edges and the soft
cutting that actually just meant
tearing, but it was close enough
to a 2nd grader who never got
to play with the sharp things.
it keeps me sane and yet
provides in safety for those
other people, the ones i live with?
yeah, before terribly happy
they were just terribly afraid.
you entertain, you amuse,
you cut out little pictures of
celebrities with little slits for
mouths and you make them talk
all ike turner with a face the size
of a finger.

you're my best omar ever.
happy birthday.


And just under the wire, this is from Amy:


I stole this from a physical anthropology book, but they'll never know. It just makes me happy that a bunch of primatologists started waxing poetic about tiny monkeys.

Primate Conservation: a romp

What a tragedy it will be if,
through our own mismanagement and greed,
we awaken to a world without chimpanzees,
mountain gorillas
or the tiny, exquisite lion tamarin.

If and when this day comes,
we truly will have lost a part of ourselves,
and we will be the poorer for it.


Damn, I gots some talented, well read folks out there.

Thank you for the poetry, ya'll. It brightened the Hell out of my week.



Days 12 to 16: Shrunk to next to nuthin'.

Cosa's Hunger Strike to End Third-World Debt

Days 12 to 16


I got so caught up in the whole birthday thing that I almost forgot that my cat was on a hunger strike to end third world peace. But since it means that I don't have to feed her, it's not like I was shirking any responsibilities.

Cosa has lost nearly all of her hair (I Photoshopped some of it back on for the photo) and she has the gaunt, haunted appearance of someone who's been watching David Arquette films.

She's not moving around very much, preferring to lie on a pile of dirty laundry and breathingly shallowly. I think she's just saving her strength for the day when we end Third World Debt and she is thrown around with loving arms by grateful supporters.

Cats can't die from not eating for a month, can they?


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