Saturday, March 31, 2012
RANDOM 341 OBJECTS2 pcs. Vintage GERBINO VALLAURIS MOSAIC Mid-Century POTTERY, Ball Vase & BOWL -$89
The most fascinating result of his new technique was that no two pots were alike, each having a unique combination of color and pattern. 
RANDOM ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA
FASTING, CLAUS (1746-1791)- danish poet. b bergen norway. in 1762 he came to copenhagen. literary early blah. moved back 1778ish + died there.
FATES- latin mythology. greek erinyes. originally the one fatam, or spoken word of jupiter, answered precisely to the single asia. the spoken word of zeus, in the mythology of greeks. the conversion of 1 fate into 3 refered to time into past, present, + future; + thus the fates answer to the teutonic norns of weird sisters.
FATHER OF THE CHURCH-MEH!
FASTING, CLAUS (1746-1791)- danish poet. b bergen norway. in 1762 he came to copenhagen. literary early blah. moved back 1778ish + died there.
FATHER OF THE CHURCH-MEH!
RANDOM FAMOUS ORATIONS
A.M. Slivan-on the zulu war 1879
i prize highly the advantages of civilization, and the blessings of civil + religeous liberty; but never shall a vote of mine be given to encourage UNJUST invasion + conquest on the pretext of pushing "civilization" or to carry the bible with the sword, so that rapacity may call its crimes "the diffusion of christianity."
A.M. Slivan-on the zulu war 1879
i prize highly the advantages of civilization, and the blessings of civil + religeous liberty; but never shall a vote of mine be given to encourage UNJUST invasion + conquest on the pretext of pushing "civilization" or to carry the bible with the sword, so that rapacity may call its crimes "the diffusion of christianity."
SATURDAY INQUISITION BLOGGINGbeheading machine 16th c germany. you can sort of see why the guillotine was an advance. imagine if you missed and glanced? or hell. not hard enough?
RANDOM 341 OBJECTVintage GIRL DOLL in Original ICE SKATING Dress, SLEEP EYES, Braids, DIRTY-$171
At first glance she looks like what I imagine a homeless person might although we don’t have any here in Squirrel Grove; well, except her. She’s dirty and so are her clothes. As happens in most tiny rural towns throughout the Midwest, if people don’t know who you are or where you came from, they make something up. Some say she bumped her head during a Roller Derby match over in Deerpoint, which is over in the next county east. They say when the troupe moved on they abandoned her alongside the blacktop road that heads north out of Deerpoint.
I’ve seen her around for a couple years now, wandering the streets at odd hours with a blank expression on her face – neither sad nor happy nor afraid. Since she’s only 17” tall, I decided to make it my duty to try talking with her in hopes of finding out what happened and how she ended up on the streets of our little dirt-bag town. I’m really happy I did.
was out just before sunrise last Thursday morning on my way to meet three other old poops for coffee up at Pink’s Truck Stop when I saw her duck into the alley beside Ella June’s “Doggie Wash ‘n Clip.” So I parked my truck and got out right fast. She was about twenty feet or so into the alley, so I whistled and hollered, “Hey kiddo. Where you headed?”
She turned around and eyed me up and down. I guess she realized I was just a harmless old coot because she slowly walked toward me. I asked if she was hungry. She said she could eat a horse, so I got her in the truck and took her home.
Ma was already up doing a load of clothes and frying bacon. As we walked in the back door I yelled, “Company!”
Ma stuck her head out of the basement doorway, took one look at Sonya, and practically sprinted across the kitchen to her side. “You poor thing. What has happened to you? You look like something the dogs drug in.”
“My daddy used to say that,” Sonya replied.
Ma led her over to the sink and started washing her face, hands and arms the way a mother would wash a three-year-old. “My god, honey – you’re filthy. Let me dry you off. You sit there at the table and I’ll make some biscuits. Do you like homemade jam?”
Sonya smiled: “Who doesn’t?” And from that moment on, the quiet little thing became a regular jabber-box. She talked nonstop as she consumed about ten biscuits, a dozen slices of bacon and half a jar of Ma’s homemade jam.
She said she caught some kind of rash within a couple weeks from the night she hit her head and started wandering the back roads, sleeping wherever she could find shelter – mostly in the woods. But it wasn’t true that she’d been with the Roller Derby. She was an ice skater, and she’d had a no good partner named D. Wayne, and D. Wayne is the one who left her alongside the road. Sonya said, “D. Wayne told me my brain had turned to feathers and he had better things to do than nurse me back to health.” That’s about all she remembered. She said everything before that night was a blank.
Well, me and Ma don’t know what to do. We’ve already checked the pictures on all the milk cartons down at the Piggly-Wiggly, and we even stuck a picture of her on the bulletin board down at the grain elevator.
We were kinda hoping someone with kindness in their heart might see her here on eBay and take her in. With a little work, some soap and water, and some TLC, she may turn out to be a real cutie pie.
RANDOM KITTEN PRON
i wish i had taken a pic of basil's, he had a big black dot on his.
