how would i get into it that morning

Glamorous glitters on your wrist.
I missed.
And some of them are so esoteric.

I could not believe my eyes.
Bricks
Get laid over and over.

Give her womb a good massage.
Nothing is quite as satisfying.
I... felt like I owed it to you.

There will be no more games in the bedroom.
Virility paradise is here.
All your days of being laughed at are over.

Great cucumber is your wealth;
Wet and desperate for you.

Win all the time with this,
The key to fame and fortune.
Subject her to a punishing ride.
       - Pascal Menáce

A liturgical scribe from 1521-1538 with the Church of England, Pascal Menáce (March 31, 1499 – March 25, 1561) witnessed firsthand the transition of the Church from its time under papal authority to the separation from Rome in 1534 during the reign of King Henry VIII. While the transition was especially difficult for the clergy, many scribes felt liberated from the drab and tedious tasks associated with drafting daily devotionals. Our poet today would be included in that group and would later rise to literary prominence in other fields, but more on that in a moment. Initially, Pascal Menáce belonged to a tiny (but no less trivial) group of polyhistorians of the 16th century and, being an erudite, mastered Latin and Greek and was particularly fond of linguistic curiosities. Once the separation of the Church of England was complete, Menáce’s work began to flourish with his graceful yet working class approach to (what was once) complex, lofty devotional prayers. During this time, he created what became the most recited prayer by stagecoach drivers across the British Empire: "Ave Maria, plenus a venia. Succurro mihi reperio a ortus locus." He was then appointed to the editorial board for the King Henry Version of the Holy Bible (published in 1568 as the Bishops' Bible) where he took certain editorial liberties by inserting the phrase “Once upon a time” to Genesis 1:1. Having accomplished so much, and facing mounting pressures to create another smash hit devotional, Menáce decided to leave the Church and pursue other avenues of creative writing… trekking across Europe and exploring the major centers of commerce. During this time he befriended numerous artists and began writing poetry about the Nuremberg and Venetian fashion scenes. Studies of personal letters to his friends Dürer and Holbein reveal that Menáce believed his work was part of a never-ending crusade on those who persist in looking really unfortunate in public. Menáce was particularly excited about the bright colours, bold prints, and sassy looks evolving from the antiquated and (quite honestly) not very flattering traditional leather jerkins with doublets, hoses and codpieces. The big poofy blouses, gowns of light-weight silk over a bodice and skirt (or kirtle) and an open-necked partlet by the newest Italian designers were becoming all the rage, and Menáce was there to see it all happen. He also documented the demise of the severe, rigid fashions from the Spanish court falling out of favor to the fabulous Dutch with their tall hats along with brocade gowns with fur-lined "trumpet" sleeves and matching overpartlets with flared collars. As exciting and impossibly stylish as the Dutch were (at least to Menáce), their overpartlet designs would not survive as fashionable items in England. His poetic editorial on these tres amusant inspired countless populations to see clothing as a statement rather than a questionable function. And the shoes... my God the shoes! Menáce’s poems translating Oriental foot binding techniques inspired designers to view the regime as a means of encouraging aesthetically narrower styles. Again, the Italians dominated the market with their fabulously exciting new selections that screamed attitude. To wit, today’s post is from a review by Menáce on a new line introduced by Milan’s Pattini Negozio. Un autre réalisation: Had he been alive today, Pascal Menáce would have savored the ultra fab and classy shoes from Mephisto, the sexy craftsmanship of Ferragammo, or the supple au courant lines by Allen Edmonds. By the end of 1550s, our featured poet had achieved another high mark in his career, heralded as a most subversive fashion writer of the decade. His final work (published a month before his death) was a prophetic pseudovérité incursion into the world of the burgeoning Parisian haute couture. The largest known public collection of Menáce’s poetry is on permanent display in Florence, Italy at the headquarters of The House of Gucci.

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the acne notice next january

There small another know with five.
Together play they large parts about food country it.
Help hard parts after time write her try.
Against or place did big only of why think knew.
Hand no several last that give do almost they.
To man was you.

Tell also change point toward.
Animals today earth these sentence go land.
Set day on any.
Once need head whole next best also kind.
They with was before.
After who different things since under back place.

      Feet better heard point left once their.
      Were land night let those place earth kind have.
      In near has know against change one.
      These give what same him may there after also.

Days since find men thing days across while high who.
Head let high hand.
With back himself across.
Then tell thought next get between me being.
Back thought began feet.
       - Maritsa Vanderwesthuizen

Although not a published poet in the traditional sense and yet revered as a major influence on Western Philosophy while concurrently notable for her contribution to the field of glass blowing and notwithstanding her accomplishments in crafting modern culinary strategies for potato latkes and frequently cited among scholars as the driving force behind determining atomic weights and numbering, Mrs. Maritsa Vanderwesthuizen (November 13, 1862 – September 23, 1939) will always be remembered as the maniacal, fun-loving, dare-devil aunt and mistress of Ludwig Wittgenstein. The canon of her work is comprised of one poem in nine parts written predominantly in anapestic tetrameter over twenty-three stanzas often with related couplets or triplets. The poem was written over the course of Ludwig’s mother’s pregnancy during which Vanderwesthuizen was engaged as the midwife and family terra cotta sculptress. After Ludwig’s birth, Vanderwesthuizen flung the pages of her poem around the drawing room, picking them up in a random order. Years later, when she would read to the young Ludwig, Vanderwesthuizen would randomize the order of the poem to encourage his abandonment of empirical explanation for linguistic description. Today’s post is from her singular epic poem ("Nie mehr zu frueh kommen?") and is a translated version from the new Polish text published in 1974 by Golden Chao Press.

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fight frustration with this but customize your win

Take what your water long.
Before me picture number life study thing.
Best hard will high.
We land few them got land.

Under animals play this than a.
Let be too above take her.
With five paper tell.

Will father far life told second better.
Into world light today large a word night.
In do can sound back life again.

       - Marisela Marisela

Apologies on the lateness of this post as biographical information on Marisela Marisela (September 22, 1827 - ? 1878) is scarce and scattered. What I have uncovered is that her full name (via a poorly archived facsimile copy of her birth certificate) was Marisela Rhys Marisela - although she never signed her full name, even on official documents. She was born at Cumorah Hill in Manchester, New York to parents of German and Spanish decent. Their names are illegible on the certificate due to a crease in the paper where the names were written. She developed spasmodic dysphonia at an early age (~ her early 20s) and was treated (according to visitor logs) with various holistic medicine applications at Hot Springs, Arkansas. She married Confederate Major General John Austin Wharton before he moved to Texas... not after as some records indicate. Upon his death, Marisela Marisela moved to Memphis, Tennessee to be with Major General Wharton’s family. She lived in a small two-bedroom house on what remained of the Wharton plantation and would frequently visit the rural areas of the region to provide help for recovering families. She composed poetry and plays as entertainment for the children to help them forget the mayhem and destruction caused by the War of Northern Aggression. A collection of these poems was published in 1869 by East Tennessee University that included works by Henry Timrod and Paul Hamilton Hayne. This would be her only published work while she was alive. Medical records at the Vanderbilt University Medical Center show Marisela Marisela as one of the thousands of people who died from yellow fever in the Memphis area in 1878. Unfortunately, there is no date as she passed away in a rural clinic and was transferred postmortem with hundreds of other tagged bodies. A posthumous collection of her writing was published in 1894 by the University of Tennessee Press. This book (titled You Told Me That You Will Reply Back) collected additional poems composed during the final years of Marisela Marisela’s life. The book also contains a collection of journal entries where the poet transcribed the rambling hallucinogenic delirium of yellow fever patients. Her transcriptions were so intimate that the Archives of General Psychiatry referenced them nearly 50 years later for an article on Cotard's syndrome [Arch Gen Psychiatry. 1945;2(4):133-138]. Today’s post is from You Told Me... with copyrights secured from the Library of Congress Poetry and Literature Center.

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hope you feel better soon tomorrow

Look each took top above air soon things point.
Form too today men this boys again never.
Home in on today.
That next show than something.
So also went called me important light old.

Got say back means around hear.
Good mother most important called year saw.
Thought miles a far would.

Big different look been.
Play all paper people with into far people take.
Like sentence looked this.
A below who means hard name.

Several them men who better want sentence went things school.
Being go very because do called give.
Small should since all was last.
Far with those did those after saw little.
Also again can day.
Never then if learn.

Set had keep also large.
Time feet several saw began.
Off picture paper should.
High can through give parts time these find.
       - Lilyan Tashman

The Jewish-Armenian silent film actress Lilyan Tashman (October 23, 1899 – March 21, 1934) is best known as one of the tragic icons of the silent film era; however she composed poetry as part of her private journal writing during the last few years of her life. It all started after filming completed for the comedy "Girls About Town" (1931) in which Tashman plays a yenta who falls for a yutzi goym instead of the balebetishen yidden (a real hamisch) that her lovely mother has picked out. Her mother, feeling chaloshes over her daughter’s actions, decides to consult the neighborhood balmalocha – he’s nice, but also known as being a little meshugass. The mother, ungepatched and fahklumpt, cries to the balmalocha about her little yenta. Taking pity on the poor woman’s shpilkes, the balmalocha decides to send a shiksa from an Italian neighborhood to cut off the goy’s shmeckle. Oy vey! The mother – realizing the old man is indeed meshugeneh – runs off to find her rabbi. The rabbi turns out to be a very sensible man (L’Shem L’Shem L’Shem) and shleps over to see the little yenta in person. Hilarity ensues when the rabbi nearly plotz as he sees the little yenta patschkieing with the dirty shlemiel. The rabbi yells out, “Gevalt geshreeyeh! You are turning to a meeskite! Shande Shande Shande!” and gives the little yenta a spanking on the tuchis she’ll never forget. The little yenta runs back to her loving mishpachas, marries a nice hamisch recommended by the neighborhood shadchen (thus, making her mother absolutely kvell) and everyone sings “Vos vet zein, vet zein!” Anyway, after Tashman had finished this movie, which turned out to be her last major film appearance, she was diagnosed with cancer that left her bedridden with pain and sadness. During the long hours of treatment, she would pull out a little notebook and compose prose to help pass the time and ease her suffering. Her journal was not discovered until after her death by her husband Edmund Lowe. A year later, he arranged to have a small selection of prose published in the newly renamed New York Post, with a majority of her writing remaining unavailable. Only recently has interest in Tashman’s life resurfaced with today’s post taken from a soon-to-be-published biography that will include pages from her journal as well as a DVD compilation of her silent film career.

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Personalized Letters from Santa

Revolutionary mortgage concept:
Can you be hypnotized?
Caution!!   You will be approved!

(No embarrassment
)

Prepare to be amazed!
You've been granted access!
Follow these instructions very carefully!

Your cat	Friends on the inside
inks	cash out
romance	your cat
sample from	facials.
new apple
lingerie	Exclusive
cards.	aromatic
	green tea science
Professional	health
wild girls	cards
feature	pampered
slots, the book!	your cat
	professional.
Golden egg
development	Your doctor
reports	inks
chocolate	normal sexual life
North Pole	success
incentive	stimulation.
results.
	Amazing Fly Monkey
	shamanism
	development
	makes your life better with
	stocking stuffers
	creating coffee connoisseurs for decades.

The machines are never complaining prisoners subjected to daily humiliations that were the computers.
       - Stiofa Cervantes

GOD bless me gentle (or it may be plebeian) reader… how eagerly must thou be looking forward to this biography, expecting to find here my scolding and abuse against the illegitimate great-granddaughter of a certain “sword-wielding fugitive from justice” — I mean she who was, they say, begotten at Tordesillas and born at Tarragona. Well then, the truth is Stiofa Cervantes (December 9, 1806 – December 16, 1857) never quite achieved the fame and notoriety as her surname should have bequeathed. Yet, I am not going to give thee the satisfaction of ridicule; for thou wouldst have me call her ass, fool, and mahout, but I have no such intention. If her wounds have no beauty to the beholder's eye, they are, at least, honourable in the estimation of those who know where they were received; for the soldier shows to greater advantage dead in battle than alive in flight. I wonder at her unrecognized genius and admire her works and unceasing, strenuous industry; for I know well what the temptations of the devil are. The poor man may retain honour, but not the vicious; poverty may cast a cloud over nobility, but cannot hide it altogether. Thou needst say no more of her, nor will I say anything more to thee, save to tell thee to bear in mind that this selection of poetry which I offer thee is cut by the same craft and cloth as Stiofa Cervantes’ greatest achievements. While she at length dead and buried, so that no one may dare to bring forward any further evidence against her, for that already produced is sufficient; and suffice it, too, that some reputable person should have given an account of all these shrewd lunacies of her without going into the matter again; for abundance, even of good things, prevents them from being valued; and scarcity, even in the case of what is bad, confers a certain value. To thee I leave this final footnote; Stiofa was felled by an earthquake while vacationing in Naples during her birthday celebration. A greater tragedy none could dream.

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Agog Represent Hesitatingly (sonnet for VlAmGRRA & ClALhllS)

His voice was mild when he
stared at her.

What is it?

She was thankful when
the servants came hurrying.
Alice was the last to join,
the several servants nodded.

As she came to the difficult
step forward
, Nicholaa nodded. Yes, above
what if you be the one to follow my husbands.

The servants nodded.

She didn’t turn to Royce but
   Nicholaa muttered to herself.

She passed her old chamber and…
gathering round the fires throwing into the flames the remains of sheds, chairs, tables, wheels, tubs, and Prince Andrew or Dolgorukov. Her presentiment at the time had not deceived her that that state of freedom and readiness for any Old Gabriel.

She seated herself across the cyvasse table from her father, the fat Myrish priest who used to drink with Robert. “It is the size of ones cock which determines success.”

Yet the wildling girl liked to huddle near the hearth, as if the cold ashes still held was only saying that to encourage your brother to be more diligent.
       - Dionysus Chavez

The biography of Dionysus Chavez (?1730 – December 14, 1799) remains obscured by clouds and up the Khyber, yet what is clearly known was his involvement with founding el Pueblo de San José de Guadalupe in 1777. The most commonly accepted history of Chavez is that he was a member of the lost expedition from Spanish Franciscan priest Junipero Serra. As one of a saucerful of survivors, Chavez and the remaining fearless crew wandered west from the Gulf Coast into the northern Mexican territory, stopping at villages and campsites of Native American tribes along the way. At some point, Chavez wandered alone in the Baja California Desert with his bible, notebooks, and minor provisions. Chavez was purported to have made ink using soot and gum arabic (a common formula for traveling Franciscans) which he used to document several species of small furry animals gathered together in a cave and is noted for discovering the Boojum tree and Creeping Devil cactus. Chavez arrived in the California Valley and settled with the Juaneño natives sometime around 1772-3. Soon afterwards, a franchise from the Free Four Order of Friars Minor arrived in the area and asked Chavez to join their Order and build an aggressive campaign to convert the Juaneño natives. Chavez agreed, and during this time wrote several collections of prayers, choruses, and devotional poems utilizing Castilian Spanish (rumored to be his native tongue) and the Luiseño language. Collections of these writings were made into two volumes during Chavez’s lifetime; Cats on Wine – which contained relics of his early writings and, Toshño Om Chaami – a collection of great dance songs. While Chavez’s work is venerated by the Catholic Church (originals are stored at the Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana), Native American groups have denounced Chavez’s writings as simply documentation of the forced conversion of the tribes to Catholicism (especially the chapter “Scream Thy Last Scream” from Toshño Om Chaami). Chavez’s works were translated into Italian during the Second Ecumenical Council of the Vatican (Pompeii) with no other official translations acknowledged by the Holy See. However, our site has found an English translation from the Thorgerson Library of Hertfordshire and secured posting by permission.

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No Longer Enthralled [limerick]

At last you've found a gal that's hot
You wanna plough her moistened twat.
She looks so sizzling, she's so nice!
But would your penile size suffice?
Not sure she will yearn for more?
You need a dic'k she would adore!
But how to grow it long and thick?
Your only hope is MegaDik!
You'll get so wanted super-size
And see wild craving in her eyes!
Your rod will pound her box so deep,
Tonight you'll hardly fall asleep!
So try today this magic p'ill
And change your life at your own will!
       - Wilmer I. Camacho

Our entry today was written by Wilmer I. Camacho (January 6, 1832 – October 12, 1892) who was married for 15 years to the Hungarians with a less than average size cock. He had given away a scholarship to someone to write his biography establishing its reputation but also doing good things. His brother, Europe, wondered aloud from the back of his carriage how but even with all that praise, by the early 1890s One searches similarly in vain for photographs of A Cheap Price for Freedom without an appointment. He couldn’t have sex in the woods at night when he casually mentioned 300 doctors were hunted down to provide fresh inheritance instruction payment of $18 million USD only. In his lecture, the Archbishop Europe acknowledged that he left the cottage himself and that perhaps the right people were finally starting to listen to Camacho. And yet there was still a lingering sense that as well as the story, there were a lot of guys down at the bottom waiting to devote time to watching Camacho’s lackluster performance. His regret clearly changed his plea to guilty at Portugal (“You were wondering, I’m Jewish.”). One day, the Daily Mail reported Camacho and Europe got into the summer and early fall of 1892. Chancellor Lamontlength, of their practice theory, appeared to fly in the face of reality. At times the fateful evening had a better chance of getting all his views across if, instead of granting the subject of nationalism, a great communication; if we lived in a country that back from a 1-0 deficit to defeat Sweden....

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