(03-28-2015, 07:20 AM)Brownlie Wrote: Well, I am a fan of the poetics of the body, and a cat on a lap definitely
feels like wet trousers.
Ah, yes, visual-tactile synesthesia! You have this (in a slightly
different form) in common with Vladimir Nabokov. He was a visual-tactile synesthete
as well. When you see a cat, you feel a wet sensation; when he saw 12-year-olds,
he could feel them.*
(03-28-2015, 07:46 AM)Erthona Wrote: rayet,
I think, considering the look of the cat, the first "cuddly" should be "cloudy".
Gives it more personality and cuts down on repetitions of which there is much.
Nice picture. Since you're so into white space, then why not:
i pee
.
.
.
in my pants
- - -
Just a thought,
Dale
You execrable trash-spouting freak of sub-nature spawned from some
grotesque corruption of radioactively-degraded alien genetic material!
Your daring to criticize my work is akin to a maggot disrespecting Emily Dickinson
(whenever this happened in her garden, she would stomp the fucker flat and watch
his guts explode out from the sides of her shoe and then, inspired [as she always was]
go on to write some overweening [say some of her unworthy detractors], but terribly
nuanced and indecipherable poem interrelating her deist god with some bird or flower
or bug [to, of course, the exclusion of disrespectful maggots).
Howsomeandsoever: My advisors inform me that, from time to time, I should appear to
evidence some humility to the incoherent masses of which you are a sub-prime example.
So, I have modified my poem to suit your pitiful fantasy. While "cloudy" is grossly
incorrect, I have decided to mollify you with "snugly". If you observe my poem above,
you will find that the second "cuddly" has been replaced with "snugly". And "snugly"
it will remain until you collapse (again) into some drug-induced coma, the result of
infantile debauchery and various other half-formed licentiousnesses. These, obvious
from your state, committed with, among, and between you and your fellow vermin-ridden
marsupial** 'friends'.
(03-28-2015, 08:34 AM)just mercedes Wrote: Poor cat - doesn't deserve that. 
Having lived with too many cats for too many years, I can assure you that
there is nothing a cat doesn't deserve.
(03-28-2015, 08:34 AM)just mercedes Wrote: But it's hella funny - and sad.
That I'm so starved for any sort of contact, no matter how fleeting, with the
compassion I've fantasized about my whole life that pissing in my pants provides a simulation
of that warmth? Uh, yes, 'sad' to the extent that you think a heart attack, earthquake, or
suicide bombing is 'sad'.
(03-29-2015, 07:45 AM)ellajam Wrote: 
I know the feeling, up until the last line. Has no one told you they'll eventually come
back?
My attention span does not allow for scenarios based that far in the future
(currently 5 minutes). Also 'back', my notebook makes no mention of this; all I see written
here is: "Teddy is John G"***.
(03-29-2015, 08:27 AM)billy Wrote: perfect , though for me it works better without the last line as it's blatantly obvious
you're a pant-wetter.
loved it
You've forgotten our previous conversation! When I told you that when I wet my
bed my mom would say "I'm not sure if it was you or me" you said "Gee, my dad always tells
me the same thing". Have you ever told Addy about this? Oh, wait, no need to, women know
these things.
*This is blatantly untrue, a joke. In real life Nabokov was a projecting-grapheme-color
synesthete.
** 'Marsupials' as bestiality, attempted on your scale, must necessarily call its home
'Australia'. (And yes, ewes are not marsupials which is but another stone to add [as if
more could possibly be added) to your pyramid of inscience.
*** An obscure (maybe) reference to Christopher Nolan's film "Memento"