lookin

Reminds me of Talullah's wonderful line at a party: 'I was raped in our driveway when I was eleven. You know, dahling, it was a terrible experience because we had all that gravel.'

I've been dashing my h-o-p-e-s since the early eighties, a strikingly bold shift soon after my worldview became slanted and my outlook jaded.

PM me if you're free on Thursdays.

I heard their bedbugs are getting liver spots.

Probably what separates folks like you and folks like me. I had a friend who wanted to go to the moon (not Alice Kramden, though there were some similarities) and I couldn't see why she would want to live surrounded by a bunch of rocks. Guess I was fussier than she was about the nature of the adventure that lay ahead. Now if you told me there was some alien tail out there waiting to orbit me around a blue moon somewhere, I'd be strapping on a booster and racing you to the launch pad.

Or whom.

It was the CRT that needed around 20,000 volts to bring you your Romper Room. Even with the TV turned off and unplugged, there were capacitors inside that stored enough of a residual charge to put you on your ass. And not in the good way.

Well, I'll nominate number eleven (at 1:14 in the video below), courtesy of nonagenarian Iris Apfel, who's featured in Albert Maysles' new film, Iris. I've been waffling about seeing it but am now convinced it should be a gas.

It's got a good beat, and you can dance to it. I give it a 98.

Pretty nervy, but real chutzpah would be billing you for phone sex.

Fasten your seat belt Suckrates because, in my opinion, you and AdamSmith are more alike than you are different. You both post what you like with the hope that others will enjoy it. You rarely kvetch about what others post, and you never begrudge us hijackers our bits of fun. Those are rare qualities in a poster, and we're blessed to have the both of you. Since it's now AdamSmith's turn in the key light, I'll add the opinions that he's unfailingly cheerful; supportive of nearly all other posters; and as regular as any of the chappies in his signature thread. If he occasionally posts something that's a bit specialized somewhat arcane as opaque as a lead-dipped onyx, where's the harm in that? If he's not around to explain it, one can often make do with other available, albeit lesser, resources. If we didn't have AdamSmith posting his stuff here at BoyToy, OZ would have to invent him.

Believe me, it's not with any sense of pride that I beg folks to dumb it down so I can play along. And, as you say, there are doors which shall ever remain closed to the likes of yours truly. But then along comes a guy like your pal, Richard Feynman, who thinks it's up to him to make his thoughts available even to college freshmen and I start going all hopeful again. Speaking of hopeful, please don't stop dangling the hard stuff just because some of us find it difficult to swallow. In the end, that is what brings us all here.

Well, what put me off this guy from the outset was the second sentence of the two I quoted: De Man poses the question whether such self-generating systems of figuration can account fully for the intricacies of meaning and of signification they produce. I mean is there any possible way that question he poses could have any answer but 'no'? Call me an amiable bumbling amateur but I just can't see how he could reasonably stand in front of the class and say, "Yes, such self-generating systems of figuration can account fully for the intricacies of meaning and of signification they produce! Without question or exception, and let me tell you why." I guess it's always possible he's using compressed specialist language to say the thing concisely and being as honest and forthright as humanly possible to say exactly where he stands but, after reading a bit more on de Man da man, I'm gonna need some convincing that he's not just showboating.

Aha! It appears that you temporarily had us confused with a bunch of figurative language specialists. Easy mistake and, had de Man's wheeze nodded toward one of my own specialties, rather than one of his, I bet I'd have been a lot quicker on the uptake. “In ‘partialism’, the paraphilic focus is on some part of the partner’s body, such as the hands, legs, feet, breasts, buttocks, or hair. Partialism appears to overlap with morphophilia, which is defined as a focus on one or more body characteristics of one’s sexual partner…it is unclear whether these two categories are unique paraphilias or different names for the same paraphilia.

Cf. For those who like this sort of thing, this is the sort of thing they like.

The description of synchronic figures of substitution leads, by an inner logic embedded in the structure of all tropes, to extended, narrative figures or allegories. De Man poses the question whether such self-generating systems of figuration can account fully for the intricacies of meaning and of signification they produce.

Either there needs to be less badinage around here or OZ needs to up our quota of 'likes'. You guys are funny!

In that job, I inherited one of the best looking guys I'd ever seen. He was wonderful to look at but, sadly, he wasn't cut out for the business and I had to help him realize that. It took a few months and I was grateful for every day.

All great advice, Tomcal. Thanks! I have a hazy recollection of something similar happening to me once. I woke up in my room, face down on the pillow, and a strange pair of underwear over my head. My valuables were all OK, but I was woozy and had a hard time standing. Even the next day I had trouble walking and couldn't even sit down without an extra cushion. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before so that evening I went back to where I'd met the guy with the gum to see if I could find him and find out what had happened. He finally showed up after a couple hours and I went over to talk to him, but he was out of gum.

I think a lot depends on the business. In the seventies, I was working in a fairly mature marketing business and got the best results by doing a lot of the grunt work myself and executing as well as I could. In the early eighties, though, I found myself managing a sales team and retail operation in the PC business, right before IBM got into it. Unlike the stable business I had come from, this business was changing rapidly quarter-to-quarter. I found the sales reps were down in the weeds making sure their product got ordered correctly, delivered, billed, and paid for, and so were my fellow managers. I told my folks I wanted no such responsibilities. In fact, I told them I wanted nothing to do at all. My job was to figure out where the business was going to be in three-six months and make sure we were ready for it. The only exception was sales calls which I would be delighted to make with them, as many as they wished. I got a really good back office team and told the sales reps their entire focus should be on bringing in new customers and new orders and the operational team would take care of everything else. It took me a few weeks, but I eventually got them out of the back room. When I first told them their jobs had just gotten simpler and that I personally wanted nothing at all to do but think, they laughed at me. Then they started making money.

Insider sees speedy approval of the XXXL pipeline

First they came for the illegals, and I did not speak out— Because I was not an illegal. Then they came for the druggies, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a druggie. Then they came for the underaged, and I did not speak out— Because I was not underaged. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me. Which was fine because I was on my way to Rio.

I'm the humble one No, I'm the humble one My tattoo is crooked My hat's too big I'll never find love Or a Sugar Daddy Sigh Sigh Sigh