Underage porn. Pics of underage girls. Underage drinking. Nude underage girls….

maggie and milly and molly and may
by E. E. Cummings

10

maggie and milly and molly and may

went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang

so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star

whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing

which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone

as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)

it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

I think you’d be great… What with the non-tangential turrets-like ramblings… Fantastic!

I’d hate to be your dissertation supervisor. Imagine that. Gawd.

a) Benson & Hedges Extra Mild.
b) Sure, at any participating retail outlet and/or vending machine. (The latter often charges more, however.)
c) Produce? Like fruit and vegetables?
Well… a combination of the delightful Pak’N'Save, Glen Innes, and the Sunhill Greengrocer on the main St Heliers Bay Rd intersection. Cough. Yes.
d) Sarah, yes. Or any one of the following: Coral, Binty, Tart-Face, Sandwich-Bag, Beer-Wench, Ogre, Biscuits, Firstborn etc.etc. …But it really depends on who’s asking.

A side-note: And hey! Hey! Hey! No more whinging about having no friends in Auckland. If you get this before tomorrow lunch-time, text me on 021 126 1569 and Catherine (’The Secretary’) and I (’The Emailing One’) will try and meet up wit’yall after Classics for some cheap-o vegetarian cusine, made by our fine Hare Krishna compatriots. And some general bitching about Classics 220/320/!@#/720. Or whatever it’s called. Sheesh. (!)

Ta, “Neko-Case’s-Broken-Lipstick”

P.S. If you wrote like me, you’d have a LOT more to worry about than spelling… *sigh*

P.P.S. And ‘(very) old vic’, the answer to all you desire is in the third post from the top. My first one. Yesh. (Stage Two, like ‘year two’, aw-roight?)

So, daughter of a maybe-Policeman, what do you smoke? Can I get some? I’d love to be able to write like you. And no, I’m not being sarcastic. Seriously. Where do you get your produce from?

Sara(h)?

P/S I wouldn’t be worried about spelling if I wrote like you.

(…I can’t really back that up…)

Not too sure whether fuzzy ol’ Tolkien would appreciate being compared to someone who can’t form proper sentences. [EG: See comment regarding Peter Gallagher's monobrow and/or love of James Spader.]

As much as I love appearing unnecessarily mysterious, I’m sure if you re-read the last email you received from Stage2 you’ll realise how you know the name.
And that yes, you have met me before.

I think I was hiding behind my hair/hands/other-face at the time, though.

“Is it MAGIC popcorn? Does it produce some sort of dizzying high??”,

Oedipa a.k.a. ’somtime-hessian-container-of-fun’

Ah well.

And boy. Are you random. There was more packed in that comment of yours than there is in Tolkien entire literary career. Fucking hell.