Once more dyed the rich red colour of sockeye salmon

real outfits for the lads: Smug Mountie is drunk with lemonade and power
real outfits for the lads: future redneck rancher is two seconds away from whuppin' you
real outfits for the lads: you can't see it, but this kid's wearing chaps.
Flashy Gene Autry sling style holster, with artificial firearm and Curse of Gene Autry
Real outfits for the panicked Home Front


Written by the guy who hums to himself as he paws through the dumpster

Fueled by rage and fresh roasted peanuts

Design by
Die Schmutz

Worthwhile Palinode Pages:
Humpty's Menu:
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - eleven - twelve - thirteen - fourteen

Can't Stop the Link:
palinode's bloggier blog
The Modern Word
open brackets
new world disorder
sex & guts!
the memory hole
national pist
Milkmoney or Not
mirabile visu
The Web Revolution!

Fueled by rage and fresh roasted peanuts

a Nixon rampant

I like the design of my site. It reminds me of a Barnett Newman painting with precise graffiti in the centre bar. Imagine a work of art in a gallery that you could walk up to and write on, and the work would just keep expanding as people wrote on it. Or maybe I should adopt the site as my coat of arms, tierced palewise, with a bust of Nixon forcene at the crest. And my ramblings, translated into Latin, would serve as its blazon.

A Contest!

According to the Illustrated Atlas of Heraldic Terms, this has no name in English. If you're concerned about this deplorable heraldry-related omission, email me with your suggestions. Tell me something about yourself, or don't, but please work with me to rectify this appalling situation soon.

My crash course in heraldry comes to you courtesy of sheer caprice and the world wide weeb. Within a week I'll have forgotten nearly all I've learned today about heraldry, although being tierced palewise will stick with me for years. I just know it. It's one of those strange pieces of arcana bent into the perfect phonological shape to hook in my mind. As a side note, I keep typing 'paleswine' instead of 'palewise'. Therefore: AVAST, YE PALESWINE! AROINT THEE!

Forgive the shortnessness (yes, that's right) of today's entry. I need coffee, and as Jim Morrison once said, "Got to have your serpent wisdom ecstatic fucking of a thousand minds cup of coffee. Waitress? Can you bring me another cup? Waitress?... guess we're in Florida again, Robbie".


How will Britain cope with the massive wave of immigration?


Nearly every day I grab my coffee from the Robin's Donuts located right next to the Saskatchewan Mental Health Association, which generally means that the smoking section is full up with people who twitch, mutter, grin frequently and without reason, and ask me for money. On the whole, they seem a whole lot quicker and smarter than the employees, who have clearly been rejected first from the Starbucks, then the Tim Horton's, then the other Robin's around town, and now they've hit bottom, here at the Robin's Donuts where the crazies sit and smoke all day.

Recently they brought in some ringers for the busy morning shift - two reasonably good-looking fellows with the power to follow simple instructions and the wherewithal to put together the occasional chicken sub - but other than that these are the hanging chads of coffee service. My favorites are a trainee-trainee duo, whom I've named Fear Of Others and Hatred In Her Eyes. FOO has strawberry blonde hair and a look of utter terror whenever she takes an order or deals with HIHE, an older woman with pale skin, stringy brown and these sunken Emperor Palpatine eyes that watch TFG with a look of perplexed fury. Yesterday I heard someone in the kitchen emit a series of whooping yelps, like the union of a dog and a car alarm. I can't wait to find out who it is.

Retracted on 2003-02-21::2:37 p.m.

parode - exode

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