Jan 10, 2010
You Dirty Bum.
If you are eating messy foods, like, for instance, bbq chicken wings, and you find yourself without a napkin, and are at a total loss what to do with your messy hands, just remember that your bum is always an option.
And with some misdirection, careful maneuvering, and traveling from room to room with your bum to the wall, nobody else ever needs to know!
Jan 9, 2010
The Christmas of The Skull
So, Christmas. It's over. Has been for a little while now. I hope that it has been long enough that I can bring it up again without reopening old wounds. (Christmas is painful. Don't tell me it's not.) I've never really been into Santa Claus. I think the tradition is silly. I don't usually tell people that though, especially around Christmas. Bagging on Santa at Christmas is a little like running into a sports bar and shouting "Football is Stupid!" Every idiot knows that is just a bad idea.
But that is not what I wanted to say. Not even why I sat down. I even thought about deleting the above paragraph, but that "football is stupid" line just cracks me up.
So lets get serious and begin our discussion of Christmas in the natural place: Halloween.
Harrison thought Halloween was awesome. Far from being scared by any of it, he loved it all. And the one thing that stuck once Halloween was over was his love of all things skeleton. Several times a day we talked about skeletons, and I finally checked him some books out of the library about them because every night he was asking me to read him a skeleton book. (And sing him a skeleton song, of course. So now my awesome, honky rendition of "Dem Bones" is the lullaby of choice each night.)
The first time I drew him a dinky skeleton on a piece of paper he was thrilled. He never let it out of his sight and had to show it to his dad when he got home from work. He also asked for it first thing the next morning, but by then I had thrown it away.
So, being the kind and benevolent mother that I am, I went online and found him his favorite old Ben and Jerry's skeleton and printed it out on some white paper. He stood next to me while I cut it out and taped it together and he was so excited he was crying. I kept saying "You gotta stop crying. I"m doing it." He would say "Yeah", but then his excitement would get he better of him and he would start to cry again.
Paper toys are awesome. Very cheap, easy to store, pretty simple to repair. Mostly. For a little while. That skeleton was just not durable enough for the love it was showered with, and I got sick of taping it together. So, (wow, are you bored yet? I feel like I have been writing this forever! Feel free to leave now if you like. Is not like this story is really going anywhere.) inspired by my mom, I made him a skeleton out of shrinky dinks.
That went over pretty well. He likes skeletons even better when they are wearing Santa hats. He requested this one special:
But was NOT pleased about having its picture taken.
Anyway, I bought him a skeleton for Christmas. A cool little 9" tall anatomy model. And due to some shocking oversight on my part, it was the very first present he opened. He was so excited, all he wanted to do was open it and put it together and play with it. He could have cared less about the rest of the gifts. We had to coax and cajole to get him to open anything else. It's not like he had that much stuff, but when he didn't want to open any of them, it just felt like a lot of stuff we had to talk him into unwrapping.
We did stop in the middle and put the darn skeleton together, to Harrison's utter glee, and then I had to bribe him to open the rest, like I do when I want him to finish his food. "Just two more presents Harrison! Just open two more presents and you can play with your skeleton!" He calls it Skull and loves it more than me.
This picture was taken right before Skull beat up G.I. Joe and took his vest and boots.
To the victor go the spoils:
It turns out the other half of the battle is actually knowing how to fight, which apparently G.I Joe doesn't. Poor Joe.
And that is all! The end! Good for you!
But that is not what I wanted to say. Not even why I sat down. I even thought about deleting the above paragraph, but that "football is stupid" line just cracks me up.
So lets get serious and begin our discussion of Christmas in the natural place: Halloween.
Harrison thought Halloween was awesome. Far from being scared by any of it, he loved it all. And the one thing that stuck once Halloween was over was his love of all things skeleton. Several times a day we talked about skeletons, and I finally checked him some books out of the library about them because every night he was asking me to read him a skeleton book. (And sing him a skeleton song, of course. So now my awesome, honky rendition of "Dem Bones" is the lullaby of choice each night.)
The first time I drew him a dinky skeleton on a piece of paper he was thrilled. He never let it out of his sight and had to show it to his dad when he got home from work. He also asked for it first thing the next morning, but by then I had thrown it away.
So, being the kind and benevolent mother that I am, I went online and found him his favorite old Ben and Jerry's skeleton and printed it out on some white paper. He stood next to me while I cut it out and taped it together and he was so excited he was crying. I kept saying "You gotta stop crying. I"m doing it." He would say "Yeah", but then his excitement would get he better of him and he would start to cry again.
Paper toys are awesome. Very cheap, easy to store, pretty simple to repair. Mostly. For a little while. That skeleton was just not durable enough for the love it was showered with, and I got sick of taping it together. So, (wow, are you bored yet? I feel like I have been writing this forever! Feel free to leave now if you like. Is not like this story is really going anywhere.) inspired by my mom, I made him a skeleton out of shrinky dinks.
That went over pretty well. He likes skeletons even better when they are wearing Santa hats. He requested this one special:
Anyway, I bought him a skeleton for Christmas. A cool little 9" tall anatomy model. And due to some shocking oversight on my part, it was the very first present he opened. He was so excited, all he wanted to do was open it and put it together and play with it. He could have cared less about the rest of the gifts. We had to coax and cajole to get him to open anything else. It's not like he had that much stuff, but when he didn't want to open any of them, it just felt like a lot of stuff we had to talk him into unwrapping.
We did stop in the middle and put the darn skeleton together, to Harrison's utter glee, and then I had to bribe him to open the rest, like I do when I want him to finish his food. "Just two more presents Harrison! Just open two more presents and you can play with your skeleton!" He calls it Skull and loves it more than me.
And that is all! The end! Good for you!
Love is in the Air (or is it the in water?)
For the record, I am not trying to get pregnant. 4 years ago it was eating me up inside, but now I think I have come to terms with my infertility, thanks in large part to a very small boy, who is so cute it hurts a little.
I am, however, writing about infertility, and was looking for some weird tips and tricks people like to give you to get pregnant. I looked online for the Old Wives Health Almanac, but all I could find were tricks to planning the gender of the baby. Some of those are pretty whacked. But I couldn't find anything on actually getting pregnant.
I was thinking that was kind of weird, but maybe because medical science hasn't had any luck in the gender control area, herb lore and witch craft still holds the corner on the market. And maybe because modern medicine has been so successful at getting people pregnant all the old wives tales in that area have faded away. Who knows.
And you all are so nice. If there is anyone who is looking for just a little help in the getting pregnant area, you've come to the right place. Here you have access to lots of really great, supportive people, with lots of really helpful advice. So thanks.
But while we're on the subject, does it seem like this has been the Christmas for babies, or what? I don't know about you, but over here, there seems to be something in the water cuz babies are coming out of the woodwork! (And don't make fun of me. I know where babies come from.) Within the last month there have been babies poppin out of:
A friend who has been trying for 6 or 7 years to get pregnant again.
A friend who was surprised with baby number three, after being sure she was all done.
3 friends who have been married for years but are finally having their first. (They are friends, but I don't actually know whether the waiting was a choice or not. I always wondered, but never asked.)
My brother and his wife. Hooray!
My husband's cousin and his wife who have been trying to adopt for a while, and just brought home their first little girl from the hospital.
Not to mention all the babies born throughout the world that I don't know about, which has got to bring this number up to at least 10. That is a lot!
I am, however, writing about infertility, and was looking for some weird tips and tricks people like to give you to get pregnant. I looked online for the Old Wives Health Almanac, but all I could find were tricks to planning the gender of the baby. Some of those are pretty whacked. But I couldn't find anything on actually getting pregnant.
I was thinking that was kind of weird, but maybe because medical science hasn't had any luck in the gender control area, herb lore and witch craft still holds the corner on the market. And maybe because modern medicine has been so successful at getting people pregnant all the old wives tales in that area have faded away. Who knows.
And you all are so nice. If there is anyone who is looking for just a little help in the getting pregnant area, you've come to the right place. Here you have access to lots of really great, supportive people, with lots of really helpful advice. So thanks.
But while we're on the subject, does it seem like this has been the Christmas for babies, or what? I don't know about you, but over here, there seems to be something in the water cuz babies are coming out of the woodwork! (And don't make fun of me. I know where babies come from.) Within the last month there have been babies poppin out of:
A friend who has been trying for 6 or 7 years to get pregnant again.
A friend who was surprised with baby number three, after being sure she was all done.
3 friends who have been married for years but are finally having their first. (They are friends, but I don't actually know whether the waiting was a choice or not. I always wondered, but never asked.)
My brother and his wife. Hooray!
My husband's cousin and his wife who have been trying to adopt for a while, and just brought home their first little girl from the hospital.
Not to mention all the babies born throughout the world that I don't know about, which has got to bring this number up to at least 10. That is a lot!
Dec 16, 2009
Pregnancy for Dummies
Hey, I am doing some research and would like to know:
What crazy advice have you heard or received for how to get pregnant? What tips or tricks did your great grandmother tell you they used to do back in the day? What weird, Old Wives Tale types of thing have you heard? My inquiring mind wants to know!
What crazy advice have you heard or received for how to get pregnant? What tips or tricks did your great grandmother tell you they used to do back in the day? What weird, Old Wives Tale types of thing have you heard? My inquiring mind wants to know!
Dec 15, 2009
Christmas is Coming
I think cooking gets about 5% funner in the fall. Having it cold outside makes the warm of the kitchen inviting, and the foods are so delicious and comforting! I made sugar cookies last night and I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. The same thing happened while I was making white chili for dinner. It is simmering right now, and smells delicious! Oh, fall! I love you so!
I had a very happy childhood. I loved the holidays and have been trying to recapture the magic of those holidays as an adult and just haven't been able to. Until this year. Harrison has made everything magical, and it helps that he finally has some idea of what is going on. And it is just going to get more exciting each year! Every year of my married life I would get excited as fall hit and every year the holidays would disappoint me just a little. What I didn't realize is that, for all these years, what I have been waiting for is to celebrate the holidays as a parent. THIS is magical. THIS is what I have been waiting for. What could be better than this?
I had a very happy childhood. I loved the holidays and have been trying to recapture the magic of those holidays as an adult and just haven't been able to. Until this year. Harrison has made everything magical, and it helps that he finally has some idea of what is going on. And it is just going to get more exciting each year! Every year of my married life I would get excited as fall hit and every year the holidays would disappoint me just a little. What I didn't realize is that, for all these years, what I have been waiting for is to celebrate the holidays as a parent. THIS is magical. THIS is what I have been waiting for. What could be better than this?
Dec 14, 2009
And a Merry Christmas to You too.
Richard is in the kitchen making candy right now. It is kind of his Christmas thing. It is what he does. What he is. And it is one of the main reasons I married him. Cuz a motorcycle AND candy making?? Irresistible. And delicious. So he is in there stirring a bubbly pot of sugary goodness and he is wearing an apron. A black, manly apron, lest you get the wrong idea. My mom gave it to him for Christmas a few years ago and he just doesn't wear it often enough. Because I like it. Apparently aprons work for me. But that's not all.
A couple weeks ago at his parents house he was wearing a headset to test it out for his mom. And I was nuts for it! I guess tech support reps are my cup of tea. Tech Support Guys and Fry Cooks. They say that women love a man in uniform, but I really didn't know this about myself.
But all of that is really beside the point. I just came to say Merry Christmas! And even though I never write anymore, I still like you a whole bunch and I hope your Christmas is swell!
A couple weeks ago at his parents house he was wearing a headset to test it out for his mom. And I was nuts for it! I guess tech support reps are my cup of tea. Tech Support Guys and Fry Cooks. They say that women love a man in uniform, but I really didn't know this about myself.
But all of that is really beside the point. I just came to say Merry Christmas! And even though I never write anymore, I still like you a whole bunch and I hope your Christmas is swell!
Nov 29, 2009
A New Nativity
A few years ago I started to realize that in almost every nativity scene, Mary and Joseph are just looking down on Jesus in his manger. Gazing adoringly at him from afar the same as everyone else. And it started to bug me. Why wasn’t Mary holding Jesus? It is nice that they are worshipping him and everything, but he was just born! Why isn't she holding him? What mother would lay her brand new baby down in the hay and then just stand around with all her visitors and farm animals just looking at him? Ok, it really doesn't sound THAT weird, especially if he was asleep. But if they were going to be getting their pictures taken then OF COURSE she would pick him up.
This seemed so glaringly obvious to me, that I began a quest to search for, and ultimately buy, any nativity set I saw where Jesus was being held. They were rare, but I always managed to find a couple. However, in the last couple of years they seem to be everywhere. It has gotten to the point where I can no longer buy every one I see. I think I saw about 9 at one store alone last year. So I’ve decided to just buy one a year. This make me happy. My collection is growing but my husband doesn’t have to take up a paper route just to fund my crèche obsession.
And I found this nativity a couple of weeks ago, instantly fell in love with it and bought it.
Isn't it pretty?
When my husband got home from work, I excitedly showed it to him (because, like any man, if there is one thing he is interested in it is Christmas Decorations) and said, “Look what I bought!” And he said “Last year?” I said, “What? No, I JUST bought this.” He said, “You bought that last year.” Baffled and exasperated I said “WHAT?” He said “That is the one you bought last year.” Understanding finally dawned and I said “No…. wait, really? No, it isn’t. Is it? No it’s not!” And then Richard explained to me how last year, at the same time, I had excitedly shown him this very figurine, and it was now wrapped up with the Christmas stuff in the attic.
Well he is never wrong. I got this one at the Hospital gift shop, and suddenly could almost remember buying the last one at the Hospital gift shop too. Gee, it almost sounds like my holidays are spent in selfless service visiting the sick and afflicted. I wish that were true. I actually don’t remember why I was there, though I am sure that I WAS there. Yeah, obviously I have some memory problems.
So the other day, just to solidify my fuzzy thoughts, I climbed up into the attic and pulled out the Christmas stuff. And lo, what did I find but no nativity like this one. Not even one that was very similar. There was a white one that was about the same size and I am guessing that was the one he was thinking of, but I can't believe he so totally convinced me! It's like he planted the memory of me buying it twice in my mind with his words. Darn him and his Jedi mind tricks! What else has he convinced me of?
This seemed so glaringly obvious to me, that I began a quest to search for, and ultimately buy, any nativity set I saw where Jesus was being held. They were rare, but I always managed to find a couple. However, in the last couple of years they seem to be everywhere. It has gotten to the point where I can no longer buy every one I see. I think I saw about 9 at one store alone last year. So I’ve decided to just buy one a year. This make me happy. My collection is growing but my husband doesn’t have to take up a paper route just to fund my crèche obsession.
And I found this nativity a couple of weeks ago, instantly fell in love with it and bought it.
Isn't it pretty?When my husband got home from work, I excitedly showed it to him (because, like any man, if there is one thing he is interested in it is Christmas Decorations) and said, “Look what I bought!” And he said “Last year?” I said, “What? No, I JUST bought this.” He said, “You bought that last year.” Baffled and exasperated I said “WHAT?” He said “That is the one you bought last year.” Understanding finally dawned and I said “No…. wait, really? No, it isn’t. Is it? No it’s not!” And then Richard explained to me how last year, at the same time, I had excitedly shown him this very figurine, and it was now wrapped up with the Christmas stuff in the attic.
Well he is never wrong. I got this one at the Hospital gift shop, and suddenly could almost remember buying the last one at the Hospital gift shop too. Gee, it almost sounds like my holidays are spent in selfless service visiting the sick and afflicted. I wish that were true. I actually don’t remember why I was there, though I am sure that I WAS there. Yeah, obviously I have some memory problems.
So the other day, just to solidify my fuzzy thoughts, I climbed up into the attic and pulled out the Christmas stuff. And lo, what did I find but no nativity like this one. Not even one that was very similar. There was a white one that was about the same size and I am guessing that was the one he was thinking of, but I can't believe he so totally convinced me! It's like he planted the memory of me buying it twice in my mind with his words. Darn him and his Jedi mind tricks! What else has he convinced me of?
Nov 20, 2009
More Unrelated Thoughts
When I was in middle school (6th or 7th grade) I decided I really liked the song "Rock Lobster" by The B52's. So one night while I was at the mall with my friends (which really didn't happen all that often. Those were different times. The only time I ever went to the mall was during a slumber party) I bought their tape. I'm pretty sure it was the first tape I ever bought. It wasn't till I got home and started listening to it that I realized I must have made a mistake. The songs didn't sound right at all!!
Turns out what I bought was UB40, not B52s. (which is Reggae, instead of the slightly wacky party band sound of the B52s.) A common mistake, surely. One anyone could have made. You would think I would have at least checked to make sure I was getting the right B52's album, but maybe the possibility that they might have more than one album didn't even occur to me. So, what the hey? I kept it and listened to it all the time over the next few years. I've often wondered if I might have turned out differently if I had spent my formative years listening to the B52's instead of UB40. Someone should test this on their children, to see what happens.
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You know those commercials for stuff that "isn't sold in any store", like paper cutters, can openers, mini hamburger cookers etc? They really want to stress that getting along without their product is nearly impossible, so to do that they show people having a hard time. And you always just see the hands. You'll see some hands trying clumsily to strain some spaghetti noodles, but they end up dumping the noodles all over the place. Or you'll see the hands trying desperately to cut out a picture but "cutting a strait line with scissors is almost impossible!"
These commercials have always made me laugh and laugh until today, when I realized that they are very sad. It is probably just one lady. She has been hired to do all these commercials, and she is trying her hardest, but nothing seems to be working out for her.
I made some hamburgers the other day, but when I tried to flip them over they just flew out of the pan. So I kinda know how she feels. Poor lady. Can't do anything right, and the whole world knows it.
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On my Google Calendar, tomorrow is listed as towel day. Not like National Towel Day or anything like that. It is a calendar Item that I entered all by myself. What the what?
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I had a dream last night that I started taking a gymnastics and deportment class (because everyone knows the two really go hand in hand) at a local community center. In the class we did things like going from laying on our backs to sitting up, gracefully. And from sitting to standing, gracefully. And all with a very large purse on our shoulder. Advanced stuff. Once we had mastered sitting and standing we worked on moving our purse from our right shoulder to our left, with a little flick and a flourish. I just know these skills are going to come in real handy some day.
Turns out what I bought was UB40, not B52s. (which is Reggae, instead of the slightly wacky party band sound of the B52s.) A common mistake, surely. One anyone could have made. You would think I would have at least checked to make sure I was getting the right B52's album, but maybe the possibility that they might have more than one album didn't even occur to me. So, what the hey? I kept it and listened to it all the time over the next few years. I've often wondered if I might have turned out differently if I had spent my formative years listening to the B52's instead of UB40. Someone should test this on their children, to see what happens.
-------------
You know those commercials for stuff that "isn't sold in any store", like paper cutters, can openers, mini hamburger cookers etc? They really want to stress that getting along without their product is nearly impossible, so to do that they show people having a hard time. And you always just see the hands. You'll see some hands trying clumsily to strain some spaghetti noodles, but they end up dumping the noodles all over the place. Or you'll see the hands trying desperately to cut out a picture but "cutting a strait line with scissors is almost impossible!"
These commercials have always made me laugh and laugh until today, when I realized that they are very sad. It is probably just one lady. She has been hired to do all these commercials, and she is trying her hardest, but nothing seems to be working out for her.
I made some hamburgers the other day, but when I tried to flip them over they just flew out of the pan. So I kinda know how she feels. Poor lady. Can't do anything right, and the whole world knows it.
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On my Google Calendar, tomorrow is listed as towel day. Not like National Towel Day or anything like that. It is a calendar Item that I entered all by myself. What the what?
------------
I had a dream last night that I started taking a gymnastics and deportment class (because everyone knows the two really go hand in hand) at a local community center. In the class we did things like going from laying on our backs to sitting up, gracefully. And from sitting to standing, gracefully. And all with a very large purse on our shoulder. Advanced stuff. Once we had mastered sitting and standing we worked on moving our purse from our right shoulder to our left, with a little flick and a flourish. I just know these skills are going to come in real handy some day.
Nov 18, 2009
I'm not writing this either.
So I have learned that I can either blog or clean my house and cook for my family, and I have chosen to cook and clean. (It isn't the right decision for everyone.) But I can't disappoint the masses! I mean, I would if I could, but I don't know how to reach them, so I will have to settle for disappointing you lot (er, I mean, you guys. Sorry, I've been watching a lot of Doctor Who). Just when you were thinking "Phew! No more to read from Elesa!" here I am again. I don't have anything new to write, but I have loads of old stuff that I started and never finished. So I will give you some of that. I gotta disappoint someone.
So here is something. I don't even know when I wrote this. I found it on my external hard drive. I don't think I ever posted this, did I?
I have been catching up on some old scrapbooking lately. Some really old pictures. Scrapbooking is always a time for reflection and a little nostalgia. But mostly wonder. Wonder at the way I used to be. Am I forever doomed to look back on myself in the past and shake my head? Must I always think “What was I wearing?” “Why did I act so dumb?” “I really left the house with my hair like that?” “Wow, thank goodness I am smarter now”.
I mean, it is nice and all, to know that I am much wiser with better style than I used to be. But still. I remember when I was in college, thinking how nice it was not to be in High school anymore. Boy, was I dumb in High School. Thank goodness I am so smart now. But NOW, I look back at myself in college and I think “Boy, was I dumb in College. Thank goodness I am so smart now.” Only now am I beginning to realize that the chances are that in 5 years I’ll look back on myself now and think “boy, was I dumb”.
I guess it is good that I am still growing and learning. And what a shame it would be if I reached the height of my wisdom at 30. But I am smart enough now to realize how dumb I really am, and probably will be for a very long time. Which is kind of a sad thought.
I am Elesa. I am dumb. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
So here is something. I don't even know when I wrote this. I found it on my external hard drive. I don't think I ever posted this, did I?
I have been catching up on some old scrapbooking lately. Some really old pictures. Scrapbooking is always a time for reflection and a little nostalgia. But mostly wonder. Wonder at the way I used to be. Am I forever doomed to look back on myself in the past and shake my head? Must I always think “What was I wearing?” “Why did I act so dumb?” “I really left the house with my hair like that?” “Wow, thank goodness I am smarter now”.
I mean, it is nice and all, to know that I am much wiser with better style than I used to be. But still. I remember when I was in college, thinking how nice it was not to be in High school anymore. Boy, was I dumb in High School. Thank goodness I am so smart now. But NOW, I look back at myself in college and I think “Boy, was I dumb in College. Thank goodness I am so smart now.” Only now am I beginning to realize that the chances are that in 5 years I’ll look back on myself now and think “boy, was I dumb”.
I guess it is good that I am still growing and learning. And what a shame it would be if I reached the height of my wisdom at 30. But I am smart enough now to realize how dumb I really am, and probably will be for a very long time. Which is kind of a sad thought.
I am Elesa. I am dumb. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
I Don't Write Anymore (and this is no exception)
The wider my readership gets (We just jumped to 6!) The more difficult it becomes to write stuff. I feel like too many of you will think my stuff is dumb. And you might. But that is the risk I run when I post things online for the world and my Ward to read.
Today, I don't much care. I've got this stuff that I've never published because I know it is dumb. But I am going to publish it now because it makes me laugh. And that is what really matters. That's right. Not any of you sorry suckers. But me! ME!
And I was just about to apologize for what comes next, because I KNOW I have done it to death, but I'm not gonna! Let's just agree that if you are bored, you won't read it and I can continue to write mind-numbingly stupid things in blissful ignorance. That is the dream you know. THE dream.
Back when I was doing all that translation stuff(and at this point it behooves me to once again mention Lance, who did it first), this is the first thing I wrote to translate, but decided that it was too long for my purposes. Lucky for me and my fancy I kept it, and here it is:
Lost in Translation The Story in English:
Here is a story. It is a good one too. You just hold on to your hat because this may be the best story you have ever read. I hope not though, really, because that would be a pretty sad commentary on the stories you have come into contact with in your life so far. Pretty sad!
So, once upon a time, there was this monkey's uncle. (Once monkeys become uncles they are no longer referred to as monkeys, but as uncles of monkeys. It is a high honor to reach this stage of life, and the term is one of deep respect.) So, this Monkey's Uncle, whose name was Milton (though he preferred to be called Sir Milton, the Monkey's Uncle, which everyone thought was a bit too pompous, even for him) was walking through a charming grove of trees admiring the wildlife, when he suddenly found himself falling into a hole.
"Great Gravity!" he exclaimed, with more dignity that you or I could manage under such circumstances, and landed in a heap. He untangled his remarkably long arms from his unremarkably short legs and looked around at the pit he now found himself in. It was not much to look at -- pits never are -- and cleared his throat. He remained dignified, despite his surroundings, until he discovered that, in falling, he had landed on and crushed beyond repair his Top Hat. It was his favorite one too.
With that, he plopped himself down and had a good long cry. And I say, Good For Him! If you can't bawl like a baby at the bottom of a ten foot hole in the ground, where can you?
English to Japanese to Chinese to German etc.
Here it is a history. This is a good idea. Because perhaps, this is the story where a certain thing which you read is best, it hangs on exactly in your hat. I hope no however, really, because these would be enough sad comments in the histories to get in touch with the past in your life. Enough sad!
Thus, did a time and a time, exist this uncle of the monkey. (As soon as the apes become divine they are not reported more as apes, but as uncles of apes. It is the high reputation in order to achieved this stage of life, and the term of from profound respect.) Thus, this uncle of the monkey, which name was Milton (even if it is telephoned Sir Milton, the Monkey the uncle, we all thought it was a bit too exaggerated, Monkey you liked.) walked even excessively via an enchanting orchard admiring the wild nature, when he was found suddenly in the hands of a hole.
"The Large One Seriousness!" He exclaimed, it could manage him in such a case, and landing with the accumulation many dignity, you shouted. The impressively large untangled the arms of his short foot and take a look into the pits. He was not a lot in order to it examines - it is not never - and cleaned his neck. He remained decent, despite his outskirts, until it discovered that, as for him with the falling, it had been landed, and had shattered beyond the repair, his flattery. This is his favorite one.
In this way he fell with a splash. With this, it had a good long-lasting cry. And I am good because of that, you say! If you cannot scream like a child to the fund of a hole of 10 legs in the ground, is possible somewhere, you yell?
Today, I don't much care. I've got this stuff that I've never published because I know it is dumb. But I am going to publish it now because it makes me laugh. And that is what really matters. That's right. Not any of you sorry suckers. But me! ME!
And I was just about to apologize for what comes next, because I KNOW I have done it to death, but I'm not gonna! Let's just agree that if you are bored, you won't read it and I can continue to write mind-numbingly stupid things in blissful ignorance. That is the dream you know. THE dream.
Back when I was doing all that translation stuff(and at this point it behooves me to once again mention Lance, who did it first), this is the first thing I wrote to translate, but decided that it was too long for my purposes. Lucky for me and my fancy I kept it, and here it is:
Lost in Translation The Story in English:
Here is a story. It is a good one too. You just hold on to your hat because this may be the best story you have ever read. I hope not though, really, because that would be a pretty sad commentary on the stories you have come into contact with in your life so far. Pretty sad!
So, once upon a time, there was this monkey's uncle. (Once monkeys become uncles they are no longer referred to as monkeys, but as uncles of monkeys. It is a high honor to reach this stage of life, and the term is one of deep respect.) So, this Monkey's Uncle, whose name was Milton (though he preferred to be called Sir Milton, the Monkey's Uncle, which everyone thought was a bit too pompous, even for him) was walking through a charming grove of trees admiring the wildlife, when he suddenly found himself falling into a hole.
"Great Gravity!" he exclaimed, with more dignity that you or I could manage under such circumstances, and landed in a heap. He untangled his remarkably long arms from his unremarkably short legs and looked around at the pit he now found himself in. It was not much to look at -- pits never are -- and cleared his throat. He remained dignified, despite his surroundings, until he discovered that, in falling, he had landed on and crushed beyond repair his Top Hat. It was his favorite one too.
With that, he plopped himself down and had a good long cry. And I say, Good For Him! If you can't bawl like a baby at the bottom of a ten foot hole in the ground, where can you?
English to Japanese to Chinese to German etc.
Here it is a history. This is a good idea. Because perhaps, this is the story where a certain thing which you read is best, it hangs on exactly in your hat. I hope no however, really, because these would be enough sad comments in the histories to get in touch with the past in your life. Enough sad!
Thus, did a time and a time, exist this uncle of the monkey. (As soon as the apes become divine they are not reported more as apes, but as uncles of apes. It is the high reputation in order to achieved this stage of life, and the term of from profound respect.) Thus, this uncle of the monkey, which name was Milton (even if it is telephoned Sir Milton, the Monkey the uncle, we all thought it was a bit too exaggerated, Monkey you liked.) walked even excessively via an enchanting orchard admiring the wild nature, when he was found suddenly in the hands of a hole.
"The Large One Seriousness!" He exclaimed, it could manage him in such a case, and landing with the accumulation many dignity, you shouted. The impressively large untangled the arms of his short foot and take a look into the pits. He was not a lot in order to it examines - it is not never - and cleaned his neck. He remained decent, despite his outskirts, until it discovered that, as for him with the falling, it had been landed, and had shattered beyond the repair, his flattery. This is his favorite one.
In this way he fell with a splash. With this, it had a good long-lasting cry. And I am good because of that, you say! If you cannot scream like a child to the fund of a hole of 10 legs in the ground, is possible somewhere, you yell?
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