It's October

Sepulchritude Forum: The Absinthe Forum Thru December 2001: It's October
By Artemis on Thursday, November 01, 2001 - 07:41 am: Edit

Wow.

I thought Lovecraft's October poem at the end of that Halloween essay was fine, if a little long, but that passage is brilliant. Thanks, Geoff, I really will have to read that.

By Geoffk on Wednesday, October 31, 2001 - 09:05 pm: Edit

". . . that country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain."

Ray Bradbury, October Country. Yes, please read it!

-- Geoff K.

By Bjacques on Wednesday, October 31, 2001 - 08:07 pm: Edit

1-1/2 hours to go, Austin time. Please don't run off, Vera. Read Ray Bradbury's "The October Country," though you can take all of November since fall comes late to Texas. It'll do wonders for your mood, especially the stories "Uncle Einar" and "The Homecoming." Bradbury came up in the generation after Lovecraft, but they had a few friends in common. In Bradbury's universe, beings who haunt the nightmares of Europe mostly haunt the county fairs of semi-rural America. America of the 1940s and 1950s has room for all of them. The vampires work the night shift at the local mortuary, while Lovecraft's Deep Ones work out their human phase on Cannery Row. Cecy from "The Homecoming" is descended from Poe's Ligeia and Morella, and in turn is the grandmother of goth girls today via, Wednesday, of course.

In "Touched With Fire," from the same collection, a proactive insurance man notes that most murders happen at 92 degrees. Above that, it's too hot to move, but at 92, people get irritable. Russell Johnson, the Professor from Gilligan's Island, says it in "It Came From Outer Space," for which Bradbury did the screenplay. Siouxsie & the Banshees sampled it at the beginning of "92" from Tinderbox.

Well, I'm just running out the clock. I hope y'all had a good Halloween.

By Mr_Rabid on Wednesday, October 31, 2001 - 01:59 am: Edit

Vera, I would rather you not go, if that's what you meant.

I likes ya, I does.

By Geoffk on Wednesday, October 31, 2001 - 12:23 am: Edit

WHat do you mean "It's her thread"? Anyone can start a thread, but nobody can own one. Once you start threads, they're like wandering kites, zooming wherever the winds of successive posters take them.

It will be November soon. Does that mean this thread HAS to die (since it can't possibly be on point any longer)? And does Vera alone have the right to continue or end it?

I don't think so.

And, seperately, BC has posted plenty of original and intelligent stuff. It's not as far out and artsy as some of the posters here, but that doesn't make it unoriginal. He's just using the other side of his brain.

-- Geoff K.

By Wolfgang on Tuesday, October 30, 2001 - 10:20 pm: Edit

Bob: I don't get it. It's her thread, let her play in it as she please. Why are you kicking in her sand castle ? When is the last time you've been realy original ?

By Heiko on Tuesday, October 30, 2001 - 10:14 am: Edit

"Recently I've been letting off some steam on the forum. I do it in my own way because my problems, which have been abundant, are none of anybody's business. Discretion and privacy are things that at least several people on this forum respect."

If you consider your problems your problems, then just don't talk about them - it's that easy.
Let off steam as long as you want, but if you do it by trying to kill other people's threads, it's becoming antisocial.

btw. I don't get the sense of your statement here. What are you trying to say with it? And why?

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 30, 2001 - 09:10 am: Edit

I won't insult you, Chonger, because I don't know you enough to form an opinion and because you are apparently a friend to someone I care for. I'll do one better: I won't even address you in this:

I went through trial by fire on this forum. I got called all sorts of things and I fired right back as best I could. When that passed, I argued passionately and got involved in discussions but saw the futility of that after a while - too time consuming, redundant, and simply not me. When that passed, I played absurdity tag with Head, ocassionally asked Ted a few questions to appease my curiosity, poked fun at trolls and greedy vendors, and, prompted by Petermarc's wanderlust, I built the Emerald Quest.

Next month "The Sentimentalist" is publishing an article of mine dispelling the various myths about absinthe. I am grateful for the help I've received from Ted, Blackjack, Justin and others. You can find the magazine in major chain bookstores and record stores. It's really quite lovely.

Recently I've been letting off some steam on the forum. I do it in my own way because my problems, which have been abundant, are none of anybody's business. Discretion and privacy are things that at least several people on this forum respect.

I will allow this: I've been losing grip on reality. I feel like the forum's Liza Minelli, glazed-eyed and spinning madly on some digital stage. I can't tell who is a friend and who is a fellow actor. I like online dramas, just as long as they are clearly defined as fiction.

That is my retrospective of my 7 months on the forum and it all ends here.

Alex

By Mr_Rabid on Tuesday, October 30, 2001 - 01:13 am: Edit

Speaking of which, Vera lass... I've been having reeeeaally bad nightmares lately. Which is unusual for me.

So has my roommate, and my best friend.

Anyone else out there?

By Bob_Chong on Monday, October 29, 2001 - 10:54 pm: Edit

You are a walking cliche. Wake me up when you start being original. Either that, or when you develop a personality.

By Verawench on Monday, October 29, 2001 - 08:59 pm: Edit

Christfuck!

By Verawench on Sunday, October 28, 2001 - 06:19 pm: Edit

verasdate

By Verawench on Friday, October 26, 2001 - 11:03 pm: Edit

..And that's just for starters!

By Head_Prosthesis on Friday, October 26, 2001 - 10:39 pm: Edit

Slough the years away

By Head_Prosthesis on Friday, October 26, 2001 - 10:37 pm: Edit

Really though, what would she do?

By Verawench on Friday, October 26, 2001 - 10:22 pm: Edit

wwvd

By Petermarc on Friday, October 26, 2001 - 04:21 pm: Edit

that seems wrong on several levels...

By Verawench on Friday, October 26, 2001 - 01:51 pm: Edit

jesusball

This is for you, Chongerman.

By Verawench on Thursday, October 25, 2001 - 09:24 pm: Edit

Hah! Pun Prosthesis.

By Verawench on Thursday, October 25, 2001 - 09:23 pm: Edit

To heal the head by means of the senses and the senses by means of the head.

I can help.

By Head_Prosthesis on Thursday, October 25, 2001 - 09:18 pm: Edit

Or would that be "soon to be" Jaded

By Head_Prosthesis on Thursday, October 25, 2001 - 09:17 pm: Edit

Don't blame yourself, it's me that's jaded...

By Verawench on Thursday, October 25, 2001 - 09:15 pm: Edit

Merely..."Tickled"???

*sigh* Where has my talent gone...

By Head_Prosthesis on Thursday, October 25, 2001 - 08:27 pm: Edit

that was nice. It tickled my dinger.

By Verawench on Thursday, October 25, 2001 - 07:27 pm: Edit

All nighty long the frustrated lass
tried pulling bad rhymes out of her ass

Nothing comes through - though firmly she tugs
At her lacy undies and absinthe she chugs.

Finally:

"Dirty boy, climb up the tree
into my angelhood!
Past breathless wings
Into God's wet grin!
Row fiercely upstream
And teach us how to swim.

The cock-cunt combo, lipbiting good
and better on seconds
when plundered once more
for puddles of giddy glorious copious
girlie goo."

She's not fulfilled - no verse will do;
Sleep comes to fuck her - nightmares ensue.

By Head_Prosthesis on Thursday, October 25, 2001 - 07:25 am: Edit

The Morning Dew...

I awake with a burning
of urine to spill
So I stumble to toilet
to piss
I can't see the cat with
my gooey eyes filled
When I tripped over him
he did hiss

Relieving my self was
a chore and a half
With the stanchion of
fresh morning wood
Well, I tugged and I pulled
and I slapped him around
And eventually delivered
my goods

While raining down into
the porcelain chalice
my nose came to running
and twitching
My eyes went to tearing
my body in seisure
I sprayed mucous clear
through to the Kitchen

I hosed my self off
in the shower
and washed all my parts
through and through
Clean as a whistle
with minty fresh teeth
Say "Good Day" to the
wet Morning Dew

By Verawench on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 10:50 pm: Edit

Goodnight, Headmaster L.

May you dream of things warm and sloppy and pink.

By Verawench on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 10:49 pm: Edit

I can't sleep anyway.

Last night I dreamt I lived in a loft with a massive concrete balcony/platform overlooking NYC. On it I had a fighter jet I'd fly over the city for my amusement. One evening during lift off I saw the whole skyline explode and disappear under a mushroom cloud. In the dream, I could feel myself being blinded by the light. I heard the noise.

I think I'll sit here and write dirty ditties.

By Head_Prosthesis on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 10:48 pm: Edit

You are so good to me,
Goodnight lover.

By Verawench on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 10:46 pm: Edit

Go to bed then.

By dawn I will have an enjoyable ode for your morning squeeze.

By Head_Prosthesis on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 10:42 pm: Edit

It's a rotating shift.
I am a little tired.

By Head_Prosthesis on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 10:41 pm: Edit

The Ballad of Little Giggles

I dance along your panty line
looking for a stitch to unwind
Seeking, pushing, probing, gently
Standing proudly, aware and intently

Frozen solid in stalwart attention
pulsing, throbbing, bobbing intervention
Away stretch folds of pinky protrusion
sinking into subcutaneous solutions

Humping madly this drilling naked cherub
Looking for a well of oil, like an Arab
Wheeling and reeling, and giggling madly
Wake up with my ditter spitting chaw in my right handy...

By Verawench on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 10:30 pm: Edit

Shouldn't you be in bed?

By Head_Prosthesis on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 10:28 pm: Edit

Sounds like a date then?

By Verawench on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 10:20 pm: Edit

Grand Cyclops of Flesh
My labian eyelids demand that
you steer yourself blindly inward.

I want a long, hard, drawn-out sob.

And a consoling tongue afterwards.

By Head_Prosthesis on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 09:40 pm: Edit

Ode To Cunt

Oh sweet labia,
Your drippings collect
in the shallow of my
heart

I tingle and vibrate
at the mere sight of
your velvety slick walls

Yea though I walk
through the valley
of the mire of sex
I shall fear no booty
for my rod ...heh, heh...
and my sac ...tee hee...
shall compliment me.

What's that stuff
runnin' down yo' leg
Juicy, juicy...

By Head_Prosthesis on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 02:32 am: Edit

THIS IS WHAT JAZZ MEANS TO ME...


Cunnilingus,
Charles Mingus,
Pubic Shavers,
Miles Davis,
Awesome Lesbians,
Dizzy Gillespie,
Carnal harken,
Charlie Parker,
Smooth Fuckin',
Duke Ellington,
Gimmie Some Neck,
Dave Brubeck,

By Head_Prosthesis on Wednesday, October 24, 2001 - 02:20 am: Edit

God: Verse

Head_prosthesis: Chorus

God: Verse

Woofie: SHOOBAHDEE DOO WOP SAY WHAT, YEAH!!!

By Thegreenimp on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 11:26 pm: Edit

The Afterlife, I'm hoping it's like Homer Simpson visiting Heaven, where he sees Hendrix playing Air Hockey with Ben Franklin........I wouldn't Worry Vera, All things even out with time, and just when you least expect it.................
Jay

By Mr_Carfax on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 10:07 pm: Edit

"Have hope, Wench. The Verdant Angel will come."

Have Hope? Must be hard times when God is trading in Faith for Hope.

I guess it is less of a let down if nothing happens......

By Bob_Chong on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 10:06 pm: Edit

Limbo? How very Catholic of you, Wench!

By Etienne on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:54 pm: Edit

I'm sorry, I don't really feel very lost tonight....

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:53 pm: Edit

Vera: Any of my faves up there with you?

God: Beardsley is here, hacking consumptive phlegm down onto the British Isles. Jarry got in due to a billing error and there's nothing we can do to change that. Since Caravaggio's arrival, countless cherubs complain of unwanted advances and rectal bleeding. I heard good things about Neitzsche but he was such a pest that I sent him downstairs. He and Schopenhauer are forever eating each other's brains out. Rimbaud hasn't quite made it out of limbo just yet but I'll keep you posted.

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:43 pm: Edit

Vera: Hmm... well, since you're being so responsive... what happens when you die?

God: Now you're just pushing your luck.

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:42 pm: Edit

Vera: See what I mean? I had hoped the current worldwide chaos would see this place become a cradle of a new cultural revolution.. a new Lost Generation.. a new Symbolism, let's say. A new but enduring and gorgeous -ism. Am I so lost and deluded?

God: Have hope, Wench. The Verdant Angel will come.

By Etienne on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:39 pm: Edit

Having problems with reality?

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:38 pm: Edit

Vera: It's just booze, afterall. Is it a mistake to tie the grand notions of practical surrealism, of fruitful aesthetic discussion, of irreverent but jeweled talks to mere alcohol? Perhaps I've overestimated the entire culture from which it sprung...

God: It is not a mistake.

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:36 pm: Edit

Vera: See, I keep thinking it's all in my head... that this place was never worthwhile. But I dread to think that, because there are those here who've impressed me and I trust these impressions.

God: They were and are worthwhile.

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:34 pm: Edit

Vera: Cricket, Anthrax, Warfare.. baseball, for chrissakes! Half-hearted discussion of overpriced antiques, once in a while. What happened to Woofie? What happened to threads celebrating cunnilingus? What happened to midnight exchanges and discussions not related to current political events? Did they ever exist?

God: They did.

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:29 pm: Edit

Vera: God. What happened to this forum?

God: Be patient, Wench. I am sending in special forces to singe off the thujone build-up and to unclog those creativity receptors. They have forgotten the True Meaning of Absinthe, you see. But all that will change.

The Verdant Angel will come.

By Mr_Carfax on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 09:17 pm: Edit

I must stand corrected, it appears the US used to be a fine cricketing nation prior to the Civil War, and is on the way to recovery it would appear.

I found a source saying America has 600 established cricket clubs with 30,000 members, not surprisingly most of the members originally come from Pakistan and the rest of the Indian subcontinent......

By Etienne on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 08:48 pm: Edit

You see, sports aren't idiotic after all, you just have to find the right one.

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 08:34 pm: Edit

I like cricket because in the movie "Maurice", based on the E.M. Forster novel, it was a source of very tittlating sexual tension between attractive male characters.

By Etienne on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 08:26 pm: Edit

I wish I could understand cricket. I'm not sure the English do. Looks like it might be fun.

By _Blackjack on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 07:01 pm: Edit

Well, I actually enjoy sumo for the technique involved. It is remarkably subtle, considering the tonnage involved.

The only sports I particularly like are the fighting-oriented ones. I mean, the whole point of sports is to figure out who could beat up who without anybody getting killed.

I don't include hockey in this list tho, because they spend too much time skatng and playing with the puck and such. Somebody needs to create rules for team boxing...

By Mr_Carfax on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 06:55 pm: Edit

"And you can't comprehend the game? I'd keep that little tidbit to myself if I were you. Unless, of course, you're lobbying for Village Idiot."

Ah, but when are the Americans going to catch onto Cricket?

By Head_Prosthesis on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 06:43 pm: Edit

It was the first WWF.

Fuck that greased up, homo erotic, "man is ideal", Greco-Roman shit. I'd rather watch QUEER DUCK...

Big, miso soup eating, fat guys, with top knots, wearing thongs pushing each other out of a circle, that's spectacle my man. That's entertainment.

By Heiko on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 06:42 pm: Edit

"And you can't comprehend the game? I'd keep that little tidbit to myself if I were you. Unless, of course, you're lobbying for Village Idiot."

Vera, millions of Europeans are with you to apply for the title of the Village Idiot ;-)

By Etienne on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 05:02 pm: Edit

Somehow I just knew that Head would be into Sumo.

By Head_Prosthesis on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 04:52 pm: Edit

Sumo is electrifying sports entertainment™

By _Blackjack on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 03:47 pm: Edit

Except Sumo. Sumo's cool.

By Verawench on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 03:39 pm: Edit

Sports are idiotic.

By Bob_Chong on Monday, October 22, 2001 - 10:36 pm: Edit

Mucked up "your" thread with baseball?

And you can't comprehend the game? I'd keep that little tidbit to myself if I were you. Unless, of course, you're lobbying for Village Idiot.

BC

By Head_Prosthesis on Monday, October 22, 2001 - 02:25 am: Edit

True sucking has just begun. You still have another week and a half of it. Halloweener is cumming.

By Verawench on Sunday, October 21, 2001 - 09:33 pm: Edit

Mucked up my thread, those bastards! Baseball should be taught exclusively to mental patients. With rubber bats.

Someone tried to explain baseball to me once and failed miserably. I don't get the giant leather hand and wooden bat thing to this day.

October, btw, sucked. I'm going to bed.

By Zman7 on Tuesday, October 02, 2001 - 06:44 pm: Edit

Baseball? Mariners.

By Head_Prosthesis on Tuesday, October 02, 2001 - 05:39 pm: Edit

Anyone?

...Bueller?....

.....Bueller?...

........Anyone?...

By Bob_Chong on Monday, October 01, 2001 - 09:39 pm: Edit

Speaking of baseball, I think Emmy's Athletics have a good shot this year. Any other baseball fans?

By Verawench on Monday, October 01, 2001 - 09:37 pm: Edit

Mmmmm! Yum... maybe throw in a few cloves... Then just slip on those sock booties and watch the leaves falling.

By Bob_Chong on Monday, October 01, 2001 - 09:34 pm: Edit

And the Cubs will actually be playing baseball in October.

By Head_Prosthesis on Monday, October 01, 2001 - 09:29 pm: Edit

And guess what goes with October?

Apple Cider!

Guess what goes with Apple Cider?

Slerpis!!

Apple Slerple!!!

Warmed and served with a pinch of nutmeg and a cinnamon swizzle stick. Take a lover down to the 7-11 and then gallop on out to the local orchard. There's nothing sweeter than the warmth of a Spicey Apple Slerple slowly sipped through a shared straw with your "amoureux de chute".

By Pataphysician on Monday, October 01, 2001 - 09:11 am: Edit

They don't call it "Black September" for nothin'.

By Head_Prosthesis on Sunday, September 30, 2001 - 09:40 pm: Edit

October 31st is coming. The night HE came home...

DEE dee dee, DEE dee dee, DEE dee, DEE dee, DEE dee, DEE dee dee...

By Verawench on Sunday, September 30, 2001 - 09:35 pm: Edit

September is over.

Falling buildings, crashing planes, dying princesses, Nazis invading my homeland and commencing World War II; month of saying stupid things, of crying yourself to sleep, month of watching tv with utter horror, month of climbing numbers.

Welcome, October. Month of birthdays to various brilliant people, those dead and those present on this forum. Month of beer fests and harvest and weather in Texas becoming bearable. Month of brown packages tied up with string. Month that ends with the coolest holiday of the year. Month I go to New Orleans to celebrate my 22nd. ANOTHER, OTHER, NEXT month, life goes on and all is good.

I'm glad it's October.

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