Kicks are cool.
Was this anywhere near Route 66?
So patiodog finally tied the knot with a hot bitch...cool!
That's no hot bitch, that's my wife!
(I get my kicks on Highway 99, myself.)
Highway 69... nah, too obvious.
this was the place -- just so you know we did it in proper style.
Very classy. Reminds me a bit of Fantasy Farm, here in Tarana, minus the gambling. Just check out Maura and Terry's wedding there:
Incidentally, "Ken" is a complete dickhead. The last wedding I attended there was a Scottish-Newfie union, and they shut the bar down at precisely the legal time. You should have seen the uproar....
Oohwee, congratulations, you two!
On language, I don't think I've posted in this topic on the spareness question, as I haven't been in either one of my spare moods or mellifluous moods to compose a comment.
Mellifluosity rules... I love words for more than their specific meanings: I love the sounds of the syllables, the rhythms of the word patterns, the music of the spheres. Spheres, correct that to balls and reread sentence.
I agree that word play isn't well placed in a scientific or legal paper, and is usually a mistake in a business letter. In my corner of the design world, play is an aspect of creative thought. I think word play is also an aspect of creative thought in some if not all literature and poetry, and that use of longer words or words deemed obscure are fair game in their composition.
There's a prof here -- I guess he'll be a colleague this summer; we're working on a review together -- who's got the terse thing down to an astonishing art. A typical email exchange is:
put under door
...and as he maintains this written voice through exchange after exchange, it approaches the level of style. The terseness itself takes on a sort of creative dimension that I can never hope to attain. (Nor do I intend to try. I arrive at the ends of sentences by roundabout routes most of the time, and I enjoy my dawdling, though I will try and arrive on time if others are waiting for me.)
Or -- I agree with osso.
Oh, cav --
don't think it's much like fantasy farms. this is a strictly fast-food affair, and run with the utmost ineptitude -- which was great, hysterically funny, perfect, not least because it irritated the hell out of guests who, well, could stand to have the hell irritated out of them.
interesting tidbit: our start time was delayed because the couple in front of us arrived very late, explaining that they had a little run in with the police after they hit some kid on his bike. the kid wasn't hurt, but I couldn't help but noticing that the groom had only one eye and one hand -- and the hand only had two and a half fingers on it. "luck be a lady tonight..."
pd, there is a very big-shot professor in E.G.'s field who shares the same first name -- a cherished email reads, in its entirety: