Gavin found himself thinking Madame Bovary odd since he despised Flaubert while he waited for his oatmeal with cinnamon and raison detre to cool.
Rufus thinks the shopkeep in Alamogordo was not particularly friendly when he sold Schuster the dynamite, but my friend Schuster said that he’d thought the man was exceedingly friendly, considering the last time they’d met had involved a 12-gauge and the man’s naked, 15 year old daughter.
Keith added "Drive On" by Vidar Busk
Salt makes mistakes taste great.
Artist: Barenaked Ladies
Album: Snacktime!
Year: 2008
Genre:
Bitrate: VBR ~ 200 kbps
Download (24 tracks, 90 mb)
Released last May, the Barenaked Ladies first full-length children’s album is filled to the brim with a ton of little ditties. I’m partial to “Raisin,” which not only kicks off with some of the best opening lines I’ve heard lately --
”Raisins come from grapes,
People come from apes,
I come from Canada”
-- but also includes one great line that is truly Scrine worthy - Salt makes mistakes taste great. Enjoy.
I would look for Jesus but at the moment I still can’t find Waldo!
Down the middle...Jesus saves - he shoots - he scores, and the crowd goes wild!
Artist: Tom Freund
Album: Collapsible Plans
Year: 2008
Genre:
Bitrate: VBR ~ 200 kbps
Download (10 tracks, 59.3 mb)
Produced by Ben Harper, with special guest appearances by Jackson Browne and Ben Harper, Tom Freund’s Collapsible Plans blends together a gentle roots rock sound with the lyrical writing of a natural born folk artist. The title song grabbed my attention right away, and my sampling of the rest of the album hasn’t disappointed.
My name is Moses Goldstein and I’m a black Catholic priest.
I am not important.
The worst thing about education, like the worst thing about depression, is the lack of linearity: at any moment, no matter how much forward motion you have achieved, you can find yourself in a place where you haven’t made any progress at all, and when that happens, it is terrifically difficult to pull yourself up off the floor.
I don’t know what to do.
Like Nancy’s White House china, Bob’s first marriage had been changed out in the 80s for something just as servicable, yet newer and almost imperceptibly more elegant.
Living on coffee and diet pills is great for the waistline but hell on memory and brain function.
Although the apartment complex wasn’t marketed as a god complex, some of the residents’ actions made the chief think that maybe it could be.
It REALLY, REALLY offends me when a person with lots of money and good life insurance dies and the article in the newspaper ends, “to donate to the XYZ Memorial Fund send money to… .”
Courses at my school always start with the entire history of the subject, making week one a millenium of information.
Sometimes I loosen my belt a knotch just to feel what it would be like to be thinner.
I’ve never been paid so much for a job I do not know how to do.
Nothing keeps me better aligned with the world than one of my failed savior dreams.
“I was looking at my boobs in the mirror last night, and I just want to say, you’re a lucky guy to get to play with them like you do - they look Yummy!” explained Julie to her boyfriend who didn’t disagree, but who found the whole conversation just slightly disturbing.
[subject][verb]Bacon Cake; that is all.
She just had to face the facts: she was just another crime-fighting knitter.
In the early 1970’s I was regularly ingesting pre-1962 Crayons as proven by the fact I find “flesh” vastly superior to “peach.”
The taste of peanut M&Ms and Orange Crush made Jimmy vividly recollect bowling alleys of his youth.
Clearly there’s too much activity to fit into a regular 24-hour period, so this particular family will now diversify into two universes.
Iris mounted the steps of the venerable courthouse, watching her feet as she balanced the curliqued white three-tiered wedding cake, whispering to herself that people had damned well better be staring in amazement.
In the distance, growing louder and increasing in number and alacrity, were a series of barely perceptible but still satisfying clicks.
The chief came to realize that religious beliefs had very little to do with the plugging of toilets, and that Hindu shit plunged just as hard as Christian shit, and vice versa.
“But if you get the turbo version,” my son very patiently explained as though to a complete idiot, “I won’t be too embarrassed to drive it in four years.”
As I reach the apex of my swing, I feel as though I can touch the stars, and as the wind rushes past my ears, I feel alive....
Lately I’ve been searching for someone who knows the secret code and can translate, “Your little Johnny is a pleasure to have in class” into English.
Much to her dismay, Nancy learned the hard way that in this modern era of DNA testing, it is not reasonable to simply pick the guy with the highest salary from the pool of likely baby-daddies.
I am madly in love with Shawn Johnson, Olympic gymnist.
Horatio wondered if there shouldn’t be a crime one step below manslaughter, perhaps carrying a firm slap on the wrist as punishment, for the obviously justified killling of one’s nagging spouse.
It’s nearly 11am and I haven’t smiled yet today; I fear my face may have “got stuck this way” like my momma always warned me.
Your banana bread tastes boring; you should double or triple the spices, like I do.
I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to make a left turn across two solid double-yellow lines, but there’s one place I go where it’s the only reasonable way to get to the parking lot, so I do it.
There are no mittens for the 2-thumbed man.
As Juan filled out the letter of introduction to his daughter’s new teacher he struggled with whether to put “sets things on fire with her glare if she gets angry” in the “strengths” column or the “weaknesses” column.
Excuse me, correct me if I’m wrong, but are you ALSO looking at a video about green hamsters and their effect on the culture in Bulgaria?
I was walking through the Fine Arts Building one morning when I heard one of the dance professors complaining to a voice teacher; when he uttered the phrase “I hate having all my ideas fucking poo pooed!” I could only gulp back my laughter seeing as he was obviously upset.
Not since my time as a puberty-wracked junior high nimrod have I experienced the combination of fear, anxiety, and ultimate rejection that constituted the jury selection process that I endured today.
I’m a doctor, I’m a doctor, I’m a doctor,I’m thirty years old, have a daughter, came back from the war, I bought a cheap car two months ago, I write poems and novels that I never publish, I have an aching upper wisdom tooth and I’m going to be a psychiatrist, understand people, identify their despair and their anguish, calm them with my competent smile of a lay priest dispensing the host pills in chemical Eucharists, I’m finally going to be a respectable person leaning over a prescription pad in hasty nobility, take it after meals, take it before meals, take it in the middle of meals, when you get up, when you go to bed, with a hot drink, at breakfast, at lunch, in the afternoon, no wine, brandy, vermouth, liqueur, come back in two weeks, come back in a month, call and tell me how it went, I’m normal you’re sick I’m normal you’re sick I’m normal you’re sick, I know semiology, psychopathology, therapy, I can spot depression a mile away, paranoia, unhealthy excessive joy, epileptic seizures, organic equivalents, the character-based ones, request an EEG through the Health Service, pay the secretary, behave yourself, or I’ll put you on sleep therapy using morello Serenif Largactil Niamid Nozinan Bialminal, good afternoon, he tightened the knot in his tie guiding himself by the left handed image in the mirror, scrutinized himself full face, at three-quarters, in profile, I’m a doctor, I’m a doctor, I’m an intern in psychiatry, the old man in the hall bayed incessantly, he returned to his desk, sat down imperially in the chair, and through the window glass had the dizzying impression of seeing a man flying, an ordinary man neither young nor old, flapping the sleeves of his jacket in the blue of July and flying.
I PASSED BOTH MY CERTIFICATION EXAMS!!!!!!!
{dancing}
Happy to have avoided 82 seasons worth of marigolds, Harold turned in his grave when he saw his sister approaching with a potful of the ugly orange bastards.
Morton’s promising career in packaging was cut short after the makes-all-your-food-look-mildewed green Saran-wrap debacle.
“Dear Students: Since I know you’re either doing your Crim Law homework or wishing you were doing your Crim Law homework, please consider the following: In X v. Y, the appellate court ruled that the jury instructions were flawed; please write a new set of jury instructions and bring them to class on Monday morning” [sent on Sunday afternoon, 1/2 hour after a certain student turned off the computer and left the coffee bar so she could go finish her reading, read on Monday morning, 40 minutes before the start of class].
“I think I might have made a slight logistical error on the move, and I need to figure it out before we have nothing to sleep on on Friday night.”
This video is not safe for work because if you watch it at work you’ll be laughing and then your colleagues will all come and play it over and over as more gather and laugh and pretty soon no one will be working and you’ll all get fired… oh, and there are some bad words in it.
Vincent realized it was probably unhealthy that he had begun to view his office as a jail and his chair as shackles.
Sometimes after a couple of beers I just want to log onto Scrine and post “ I love you guys” a thousand times.
My mother used to throw things at me when she got mad, frozen porkchops, lumpy globs of chicken fat, coffee mugss...whatever she had in her hand at the moment.
I was so terrified, I forgot how to speak.
I steal everyone’s pens.
I am 40.
And it was then, while staring at the rushing clouds in front of her, she realised her childhood friend had never left her, so she turned to her, squinting slightly from the brightly burning colours, reached forward into the mirage, took her hand and, together, they rolled gently into the sky.
There are some things that humans are not built to do, but do them we do all the same.
As she prepared for the Monday morning onslaught, she heard the faint siren song of Saturday in her ear.
Some days it felt like a cool dip in the red dirt river.
“I smell danger… oh, wait… that’s you....”
Back in high school, Nelson Hunt was always pestering me to hoard silver with him, but the other kids were already calling me a Plyushkin, so I chose to remain quietly hidden behind my giant stack of telephone books.
Artist: Beth Rowley
Album: Little Dreamer
Year: 2008
Genre:
Bitrate: VBR ~ 180 kbps
Download (11 tracks, 58.5 mb)
Okay, so I don’t go to church. But this doesn’t stop me from imagining that one day I will, and that it might go something like this…
A small group have gathered to celebrate life and the great beyond. They call themselves the Church of Personal Space, and their leader, their minister, their master of digital ceremonies, or whatever it is they call him or her, has asked those in attendance to put on their headphones and scroll their digital music players to the day’s first hymn, “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” by Beth Rowley.
i’m not sure i care anymore.
160 pages to read x 3 pages/hour read (including briefing, noting and annotating) = howling, Lear-like, into the void.
Artist: Ben Sollee
Album: Learning to Bend
Year: 2008
Genre:
Bitrate: VBR ~ 200 kbps
Download (11 tracks, 57.8 mb)
Strings sound good to me today, so how about we follow up Sophie Solomon with Ben Sollee strumming and plucking away on that cello of his in his new release, Learning to Bend.
Ben Sollee is a Louisville, Kentucky cellist who plays with Abigail Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet, along with banjo player Bela Fleck (both of whom, Washburn and Fleck, make contributions on this album). Sollee, as you’ll hear, is no traditionalist when it comes to his instrument, and writes and plays songs that are well worth your time. From the fun “Bury Me With My Car” to the political “A Few Honest Words,” aimed straight at the heart of the Bush administration, to his slightly altered version of Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come,” Sollee doesn’t fail to entertain.
Mary Margaret was crushed when she learned that the statue in the churchyard was bleeding rancid pig fat died red.
Pig uterus is not the weirdest offal I’ve eaten.
Salt free BBQ potato chips - yummy - well, at least excessive consumption doesn’t cause anal leakage.
Even in the dark Detective Beaver knew the unmistakable plop-plop sounds of wet clumpy viscera hitting the cool basement floor, and the red steam and coppery smell of death rising from the dead body revealing the victims final resting spot were not needed for the policeman to know this was a murder scene.
My heart burns with the fire of creation and unless it is quenched it will scorch the earth; I am a god maker and in my heart a new mythos is born today.
Blogs are to literacy what (fill in the blank) is to (fill in the blank)
Artist: Sophie Solomon
Album: Poison Sweet Madeira
Year: 2006
Genre:
Bitrate: VBR ~ 200 kbps
>>> Album available upon request <<<
If you enjoy energetic string music or the mystical appeal of the gypsy life, but secretly dream of it somehow sounding more modern, then look no further than Sophie Solomon’s debut album, Poison Sweet Madeira.
Solomon has appeared and worked with musicians as diverse as Gary Lucas, Bacon & Quarmby, Luke Toms, Nayekhovichi, Alan Bern & Brave Old World, Maurice el Medioni, the London Symphony Orchestra, the Israeli Sinfonietta, Avishai Cohen, Yasmin Levy, Ludovico Einaudi, Marius de Vries, Kipper, Temposhark, Jon Thorne, Smadj, Ben Parker - formerly of Ben & Jason and Beshodrom, as well as a few of my favorites, The Real Tuesday Weld, the Legendary Shackshakers, and Hazmat Modine.
She liked to use up all the bottles and cans in the house at the same time, and planned her meals carefully so that she ended up with a bite of each thing on her plate.
During my morning swim I did not for even a moment imagine myself as Michael Phelps.
Some birthdays are deserving of a quiet cup of tea, but some are deserving of a screaming, exhilarating leap out of the sky.
Here’s what I miss about New York (other than my beautiful friends, of course): When I was 21, freshly arrived in the city and crying from loneliness at least once a week, I went to a sandwich shop for lunch one day; the station on the radio played ”Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone, and by line 3, the counter guy and I were singing it together.
Bronwyn knew that her life had changed forever when she realized that the high point of her Friday was making plans to go out for dinner with her husband, and feeling her heart lift not because she loved the pleasure of his company (although she did), nor because the hole-in-the-wall taqueria to which they were going made fabulous food (although it did), but because she knew that they could stop on their way home at the 7-Eleven and buy a six-pack of Skinny Dip and two It’s-It ice cream sandwiches.
Sometimes I really feel like punching the next well educated, upper-middle-class person with a good job and health and healthy children who whines “woe is me” in the nose.
I can’t wait to get old so I can be a mean, scary hermit.
I cannot escape your love, as if I was blind and afraid of the dark.
I stole your pen.
“Because if I went on a diet,” explained Darko patiently, “I couldn’t eat all these cookies.”
I’m shopping the internet for a nice Friday attitude - something easy to assume, but entertaining enough to see me through to 5.
Sitting under a perfectly groomed palm tree reading interesting/challenging stuff for three years; color me jealous, Bakerina, color me jealous.
I stayed up too late watching the Olympics.
Helen awoke confused wondering what a chensheckel was and why it had figured prominently in her dream.
I’m jealous of other scriners.
“The reason I’m doing this,” said the professor, “is so that you are forced to build listening skills, to listen to each other and eventually be able to critique each other, because right now, you can just zone out, your minds can go right to La-la Land if I’m not calling on you directly,” while Bronwyn sat at the front of the room, wearing a look of bright-eyed desperation, wanting only to understand.
In preparation for Wife #3’s case, Juan decided to read Wife #2’s divorce file down at the courthouse—turns out that Nasty Husband not only kept a computer diary of every sexual encounter he ever had (including the ones with other people during Wife #2’s marriage which made Wife #2 a bit upset), but he also included important notes about all the details including locations, condom use/non-use, positions and, the best part, how much time was involved, which was on more than a few occasions noted at “1 min.”
Sometimes I lie in confession.
Taking his time, Wesley carefully cut long strips of bond paper to size, gluing prison bars over the picture of the vice president of operations on the cover of the quarterly report.
My hair doesn’t know what to think about the time change.
After 20 years of marriage, I find my wife incredibly sexy.
I was going to confess this last week: I procrastinate.
I want to reach the top of the world, and with you by my side, that’s possible.
All day long he kept coming back to that one particular flash of unconsciousness, sure of what it meant, yet still unwilling to look it straight in the eye.
As his arms graced the city skyline and his wife mouthed obscenities close behind, it occurred to him that he had, in awful forgetfulness, left water in the teapot and that it would now surely rust.
Sometimes after too much oral sex on my girlfriend my nose gets chapped.
“I only slept with you because you promised not to fall in love with me,” Julie explained to Scott, who clearly was not listening.
