Via anthropologist John Hawks, a gem from Rex Stout:

His position in society, his high repute among his fellow men, his nimbus as a master biped.

Nobody writes like that any more, dammit.

Labels: anthropology, literature

Via Futility Closet, Oedipus Rex, expressed in licence plates:

ONCEPON ATIME LONG AGO IN THEBES IMKING. OEDIPUS DAKING. LVMYMRS. LVMYKIDS. THEBENS THINK OEDDY ISCOOL. NOPROBS.

OKAY MAYBE THEREZZ 1LTL1. MOTHER WHERERU? WHEREAT MYDAD? NOCALLZ NEVER. HAVENOT ACLUE. INMYMND IWNDER WHOAMI? IMUST FINDEM.

JO MYWIFE GOES, "OED DON'T USEE? WERHAPPI NOW LETITB." IGO, "NOWAY. IAMBOSS. DONTU TELLME MYLIFE. INEED MYMOM. II WILLL FINDHER. FIND BOTHOF THEM."

...

The ending is really weird. Sick people, those Greeks. READ IT, DAMN YOU! READ IT!

P.S.

The cockroaches have eaten my shirt.

Labels: literature, The Grandeur that Was Greece

atentoin dylen tomsas fans! asumign thers anysuck thign.

llareggub isnt a real towan. read it backwradrds.

Labels: drunks, Duh, literature

ok so anyhoow i was in teh gorcary strore an the chekckout gril was kinda cuate so i was tihnkign 'howm i gona talk to er?' so i was wrackcing my bararain an i notaced her namtag siad 'justine' so i was like ok cool an i said 'so dude ur like inta teh marquis de sade an sutff/?"

wel she didn know wat i was on abuout so i had a expaplian an it al wen't downhil form the're somehow an she caled teh managar ovar. wont try thaat agian. i gues larence durels out to?

mabe ill try justine frischshmen on er nex time im in theyre. evarybodddy lieks cars right? haveta waiat awahile though. the mananenger got al weierd whan i hit im.

Labels: if music be the food of love, literature