Shaking; nervousness; feelings of impending doom; uncontrollable urge to read Tin-Tin instead of writing lecture on John Stuart Mill; signs of an incipient ability to speak in tongues. Symptoms abated somewhat upon consumption of soy chai and an orange around 3 pm. Mantra: "What I lose in the pleasure of pleasure, I gain in the pleasure of masochistic self-denial."
9 comments:
Well there you go, there's a turn up. For Pentacostals, it takes YEARS of cultish indoctrination to make them speak in tongues, but you swear of chocolate for one day, and bingo! - instant glossolalia!
Tin-Tin is surely the match of any cocoa-based solid. Four kilometres' worth of deprived Parisians, who must live on rations of a bite a day in order to fit into their chic berets, agree. Observe- the Herge exhibition:
http://englandcalling.vox.com/library/photo/6a00c2252787a0604a00d10a79cc0d8bfa.html
Fear not- detox redemption lies within Captain Haddock's gruff embrace.
Jennifer, thank you. Everything you say here is deeply reassuring. I don't, just for the record, plan to shrink my head (or any other bit of the old bodkin) to chic-Parisian-size.
By the way, haven't worked out how to leave comments on your blog without getting another username & password to add to a gargantuan collection. This is my sole (and singularly lame) reason for not having commented on your blog. I'll comment on my blog instead, to wit, you write like an angel. Only rather more pithily. In fact, your sentences should be sold in very small bottles to unsuspecting pilgrims, in lieu of Jesus' fingernails and St Francis's pubic hairs. Yes. I think I'll write to the National Pilgrimage Bureau and suggest just that.
Oh boy, glossolalia! That's a word to sooth a cocoa-deprived soul. I shall repeat daily and thrice on sundays.
Your blog is so strange, yet refreshing.
Thank you (I think); nice of you to drop by.
"Strange, yet refreshing" - like a lemonade enema?
I tried that once. Never again.
You too?!
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