im thiknkgign teh guy who invnnetned beaseball. he musta dremed it up an than gone out lokin for a buncha guys to try it out. maybe in a bar. so he wlaks in an says 'ok guys hers what u gota do here...' etc ctc an expaplsins the twhole thing. their like 'yuo want us to do what?' so he tels em again! an they lookat im an furow there brows an look at each aother.

than tey start punchign im.

try asi might i just cant imagaine myself tryigna talk people inta staning around in a field all day scratchign their nuts.

an a mery fucklign crismas to u to ashole.

tody were gona trasnlate teh aneind wich is a real old poam by a romen.

Arma virumque cano

'virille' maens 'man' an a cano is a dog. sso that means a werwolf. 'arma' is easy. anybody whos ever wached public tv knows teh roumens didant prounounce their 'r's. so if you say it that way out loud u cantell hjes saying 'im a virumque cano' menign 'im a weerewolf'. see? its a snap.

Troiae qui primus ab oris

'primus' is waht u cook with an 'oris' is a root so hes miakign diner.

Italiam fato profugus Laviniaque venit

ok! hes talkkign abuot itely but ud thinnk since the romons lived the'yre theyd be able to spel it right? but mabe vrigil he hada spech defect. so anyhow the itlaliams are fat an theyre pro fungus. i can vuoucht for taht! i hada real good risoto with musrhooms a couple weeeks back. ok an then its somethign about lavinia. i knew a gril in schol by that nmanme. she wrote godawfal poetrry. probly it means lavianias etign fungus by the vent.

litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto

yep must be 'vent' cauose hes sayigin he means it litorally. er else now hes talkging about lavinias lady parts. but its more likely he means teh vent on the stoave. ok now 'teris' might be a terrine or else shes scared. but 'scared' makes no senscte because its alredy been specafied shes likes funngus. so shes eatgin a terrine thats fula mushroms. with a glassa milk. an finaly a alto is a saxapohone.

duno waht the rest is. looks like som kina foren gabble to me.

so to recapuitulate he'res teh story sofar

im a werewolf cookign roots for funguslovign lavinia
teh tiailian ladey drinkging milk. by the vent. no really!
but she only wantsto play her saxaphaone.

its shapign up to be a romantic comedy.

thers some deeeply weeeeird people out the'ir.

Just got back from the laundromat. On the television there — a "television" is a glass-fronted box stuffed with more imbeciles than a sane man would imagine possible — the "news" was on. Some gibbering, hyperactive, toothy, chirrupy psychopath of a woman bleated "how many fingers, Winston?" and then yammered the following:

A new law may pave the way for area restaurants to serve delicious meals like this [cut to photo of a glistening multilobate horror on a plate, candied tumors in badger's lymph perhaps], trans-fat free!

No. Wrong. No, this cretinous law will make no food feasible that was not feasible before. That is beyond the power of the state entirely. It will instead "pave the way" for area restaurateurs to be fined for serving perfectly normal food that their customers, mentally competent adults more often (slightly more often) than not, choose to pay good money for, of their own free will. The mentally incompetent adults are perfectly free to crawl around in the woods grunting and rooting in the earth for tubers — organic ones — if that is how they choose to live their worthless, humorless, clenched, sphincterish, sterile, denatured, timid, epicene, unmanly, snivelling, safe little lives. I care not.

NYC perpetrated some imbecile ordnance like this just recently, or announced the intention; no doubt the morons up here have been inspired by the example. Fifteen years ago, when I predicted that anti-smoking hysteria, if successful, would without fail be followed by laws banning fatty foods, people laughed. Who's laughing now, Pollyanna? Motherfucker.

First they take your guns, then your cigarettes. Disarmed, weakened, and helpless, you will at long last be powerless to resist when they come for that most precious thing of all: Your fat. It is un-goddamn-American, is what it is, is all. For fuck's sake.

Will no-one rid me of these troublesome body-Nazis?

UPDATE

AAARRRGGGHHH!

Those of you who have grown accustomed to me sitting here on my fat ass in Boston not posting anything are in for a startling change in your daily routine: From December 30, 2006, I will be sitting on my fat ass posting nothing in a suburb of Manchuria called Portland, Maine. The change in the tenor of this blog will be subtle, yet in a factitious sense quite profound. We urge you to remain calm during the difficult transition that lies ahead.

hairys having a hard time comign to grips with is nefphews secuality. poor guy. to have a uncle liek that...

on teh same topic! projact watabe wansa know dos anybody knoow abuot teh greaks? its safe to tel him. hes a eingneer.