Talk about your day thread

[Jorge]

Urgh, big ol' chip of my filling broke off during a random bite at dinner. It's looking like a root canal or extraction for me, 'cuz this filling was barely holding things together. Fun.

Best of luck

[BurtReynolds]

There's a wasp nest on my porch, but I don't want to kill them or call maintenance. I try to avoid killing The Lord's creatures so I don't think it's right to exterminate them just so I can comfortably sit on my own back porch.

Anyway they are now using the glass door to cool off from the murderous heat. It's a little weird.

[The Argonaut]

Are you vegan?

[JuanHamm]

You're doing the right thing, Burt.

[BurtReynolds]

I mostly only eat chickens and seafood these days. But boy do I devour a lot of chickens.

[JuanHamm]

Birds and fish don't have feelings. That's a well known fact.

[E.H. Ruddock]

How can burt eat chickens if birds aren’t real?

[Mickey]

Sent off two manuscripts, only one of which might eventually have more readers than my posts on this board.

[BurtReynolds]

Post your manifesto.

[The Argonaut]

Sent off two manuscripts, only one of which might eventually have more readers than my posts on this board.

If any of you academic types would like some help boosting your Scopus/Web of Science/citation tracking numbers, just send me the citation. I have active log-ins for like six different libraries. We'll get you boosted in no time

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Mickey]

I'm going to get the last tenure track job in America and then transcend it when small press poetry in translation becomes a new growth market

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Mickey]

I got recruited by McKinsey the other day so that's the current backup plan.

[Mickey]

"You've studied neoliberal restructuring--now's your chance to do it!"

[BurtReynolds]

Your gonna get chewed up by the machinery. Break out now!

[Bammer]

Yesterday was pretty much perfect - took the boys to the M’s game. Saw a win, great pitching from Robbie Ray, lazer home run by Julio Rodriguez right in front of us in the LF corner, damn near got killed by a foul ball, and saw a streaker (who sadly kept his pants on).

Then watched The Sandlot last night after we got home.

[Jorge]

I'm sorry your young children weren't exposed to a stranger's nude body Bammer

[Bammer]

I'm sorry your young children weren't exposed to a stranger's nude body Bammer

I support the speedo look

[BurtReynolds]

Wait, is it streaking if you keep your pants on? That's just running around where you're not supposed to.