zip hush chup nada zilch
September 28th, 2003 byEveryday a dozen conversations go through my head, one after another. I try to write them out, or atleast think them out and type them if I can. I wish to capture them, carrying a pen and a small yellow legal pad on me. But there is a constant fear of letting out too much, of over expressing, of having a man aboard. I think we all feel as such.
It feels naked to say too much doesn’t it? Even as you read this, you’re thinking of all the things you don’t say outloud, that you don’t write down anywhere, that you don’t even speak outloud, all the things you keep quiet about and lower your eyes then. Even now the words try pushing out, even now they boil bubble trouble quadruple they-
Lower your eyes.
September 28th, 2003 at 11:26 am
never!
September 28th, 2003 at 12:24 pm
Hi Waleed!
September 28th, 2003 at 3:48 pm
You know, I try to introduce you guys to some culture and intelligent thought but instead, all I get is two Canadians. One resisting just because and the other one madly waving hello to me.
I’m so lucky.
September 28th, 2003 at 3:59 pm
eh?
see, you said: lower your eyes.
i said: never.
we canadians are so much more intellectual-like than le amreekans.
hi waleed!
September 28th, 2003 at 4:16 pm
=)
More then one mirror Yaser, more then one, eh.
September 28th, 2003 at 4:22 pm
you’re american, therefore you can’t use ‘eh’.
that’s against the canadian protocol of acceptable phrases (approved by renowned canadian etymologists.)
September 28th, 2003 at 4:30 pm
hmm, well if it makes you feel any better, waleed, i was going to comment intelligently, but this whole comment box has thrown me off track, and made me laugh out loud instead of ponder inwardly.
and i forgot what i was going to say anyway.
might as well keep the words inside.
yeah.
September 28th, 2003 at 4:45 pm
yaser, i ain’t no yankee. i gots me my own roots. i carry them with me in a special pocket at all times.
and yasmine, it does, it comforts greatly.
because yaser is a meany. a bully. a large ignoramous budding cauliflower with colossal square stomping feet.
ps: this yes dear friends, is a joke. yaser actually has very nice feet. he may even have shown me pictures of his feet, but that’s between him and me.
September 28th, 2003 at 5:25 pm
Hah… you’re hardly qualified to teach us intelligent thought, Waleed.
Anyhow, you should be flattered that somebody like me is saying hi to you. So lucky you are, indeed.
To Whom It May Concern: Waleed is not an evil Amreekan. Well, evil he definitely is, buuuuut he’s not a Yankee.
The man’s a nomad, people, a NOMAD!
September 28th, 2003 at 5:29 pm
A nomad with a fetish for feet…
September 28th, 2003 at 5:35 pm
now everybody, on the count of three,
lower you eyes…
1
2
3
but don’t lower your thoughts…
September 28th, 2003 at 6:27 pm
Feet fetish…*shudder* no.
bad faiza. bad bad faiza!
September 28th, 2003 at 9:58 pm
wow, i’ve never been compared to a cauliflower before.
i’m flattered. :blushes:
September 29th, 2003 at 12:58 am
y’all are so wack.
and since everyone else has gone off on random tangents in this comment box, here’s a story: I once drew a picture of a beautiful rose. And showed it off proudly to my grandmother, who peered at it, and congratulated me on having drawn a very nice cauliflower indeed.
my love for art has never been quite the same. hmph.
September 29th, 2003 at 2:37 am
Insanity. Ya’ll have laughed me into a coughing fit. That’s pretty high up there on the Owl scale of humor.
September 29th, 2003 at 5:06 pm
oh yeah. we rule. Owl loves us. uh huh.
do Carlton dance.
September 30th, 2003 at 4:22 am
your box ATE my comment. grrrrr