Heh. It's a song, but close enough. Believe it or not, the way she does it is really funny. Really sad, but funny. (-:
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I'll iron your underwear, polish your tennis shoes, follow your dog around and pick up her poop; I'll do your laundry and be very nice... Just don't leave me darling, or you'll screw up my life.
'cause... I was nothing before you came. I was dirt on the sidewalk - I didn't have a name. But then your sunshine came in through my door; You have changed my life, I've no worries any more.
Whatever you want, dear, I'll try to appease. I'll rush in with tissues when you're about to sneeze. I'll write your thesis, trim the mold of your cheese... I'll pay your mortgage, just don't leave me please.
'cause... I was nothing before you came. I was slime on the cat's dish - I didn't have a name. But then your sunshine came in through my door. You have changed my life; I've no worries any more.
With you I have purpose, and direction in my life. My world is now perfect, forever free from strife.
But just today, dear, when I alphabetized the food in your kitchen, you stopped, and asked, "Why?" I - I thought hard for an answer... One that you would approve... But you didn't wait, darling, towards the door you started to move. You said,
"If you were nothing before I met you, you'll continue to be nothing, no matter what I do. So now I'm leaving into the bitter cold - No, no, don't get my coat, dear, I've really got to go."
I guess you're right, dear. You always are. So please come back to me, and I'll repaint your car. I'll arrange your bath towels by color and by size... But you ignored me, you had no reply. You said...
...Nothing.
~ "Nothing, Jamie Anderson"
I am turning in revolution
these are the scars that silence carved
on me
And you haven't read the Hitchhiker's Guide books? Oh, they're classics! Awesome! I'm always nervous to see the movies made from books that I've treasured, and this one in particular, because it's the HHG.
I was extremely upset that from the previews, it looks like Zaphod only has one head in the movie. Somewhere in the "trilogy" it's established that the whole thing started from information he burned into the extra one and then completely blocked his own mental access to. )-: (And okay, I absolutely love that he picked Trillian up while pretending the extra head was a parrot in a cage with a sheet over it. How much cheesier does it get? :-D) I suppose, really, though, the authenticity will largely depend on how they do Marvin. He's just one of those characters who, while not absolutely central to the storyline (though he is, in a few places), is absolutely central to the feel/humor of it. *bounces excitedly* I'm so nervous to see how they handled it!
And back on topic, one more, for the feminist in us all:
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There was a sweet maiden in a garden so fair. She knelt on the ground and combed her long hair. She took in the beauty of the garden so dear, and dreamt of her loved ones so far 'way from here.
Then from the green leaves stepped a young man. "Though art fair, maiden, I've come for your hand. I have riches and servants to fill all your needs; I will take you away on my noble steed."
She gazed at him sweetly; he was handsome, and tall. "Sir, you must now leave, or I'll cut off your balls." Then she flashed her saber that could cut a tree. He fled so quick, she didn't even say please.
This story has a moral; it might save your life. Don't intrude on a maiden - she might have a big knife. And it's not for everyone to take a violent stand; just don't assume a maiden is waiting for a man.
~ "Sweet Maiden," Jamie Anderson
I am turning in revolution
these are the scars that silence carved
on me
YEAYYYYYYY! Poem posts! See, I knew someone would share this interest, and now I have another poet to look into.... (as well as reading the HHG books)
Dis poem is by a local poet, I stumbled across the book at the 'brary yesterday, (no, it isn't Mutabaruka)
"The Wait"
I've been expecting you all night. All night my table's circle of bright light trembled, the corners of the room blasted off into space. I've been waiting for you to be there across from me, finishing some- thing you'd started to say so many years ago perhaps beginning what you never could before.
All night I've waited for you to come from that other realm, a moth consummating your mission, eyes red with an inhuman fire flashing, flashing a code it could take a lifetime to decipher, or just to stand there at the dim edge of my eye, the fern's fine fronds, a green shimmer of breath.
Watching me without one word would be enough. Because, brother, father, final lover, all night I've been expecting you. Now dawn hammers joists back into place, blots out my lamplight. Calm seeps in. You won't come and, if you do, I won't be here.
I wrote this one hoping you might get a chuckle out of it, csw.
The Wayward Spouse -------------------
I am but the sun, and all your worlds orbit around me.
I am fire, and all consuming. Why can't you behold my brightness?
I am the center of all that I am, and even you must notice it.
I am more than the sum of me, a singular force that can't be divided by one.
In my mind.
All the best, -NOPkins-
I will ferret out an affair at any opportunity.
-An affair is the embodiment of entitlement, fueled by resentment and lack of respect. -An infidel will remain unreachable so long as their sense of entitlement exceeds their ability to reason.
What do you wear, poor Angus,
when the wind blows down the hills?
I make myself a warm cloak, sir,
of hope and daffodils.
And what do you eat, poor Angus,
when hunger makes you cry?
I make myself an omelette, sir,
of fluffy clouds and sky.
And who do you love, poor Angus,
when Catherine's left the moor?
Ah, then sir, then's the only time
I feel I'm truly poor.
I am turning in revolution
these are the scars that silence carved
on me
Thanks Lina, now I am temporarily off the hook for an original. I must follow with another Silverstien:
How Many, How Much
How many slams in an old screen door? Depends how loud you shut it. How many slices in a bread? Depends how thin you cut it. How much good inside a day? Depends ho good you live 'em. How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you give 'em.
If I could write words Like leaves on an autumn forest floor What a bonfire my letters would make. If I could speak words of water You would drown when I said 'I love You'
We made love to each other a long time ago, as children. Now that age has taught us to hate, I no longer expect you to come running after every heartbreak. That is the reason I've been away for so long.
) 