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2000-10-19 - 15:15:56

Just for the record, I've never met anyone I've "met" online.

I do know someone who married her online boyfriend and met him face-to-face for the first time the day before the wedding.

I don't know if any of that's relevant or not, but there you go.

(Don't know what I'm talking about? Check out the guestbook.)

I've been reading a lot of poetry in diaries lately. I'm not a good person to talk about this particular topic, because I've kind of been soured on it. (I once belonged to a bbs poetry group, where I got so fed up with the drivel and dreck and the two-faced "appreciation" that I wrote what was probably the Worst Poem Ever. I don't remember most of it, except the part that went "maybe I should kill myself/end my life/with a knife" and when I got all the comments about how beautiful and insightful my "poem" was, I left and have been in an antipoetry world since then.)

Which is not to say that I think poetry in diaries makes them bad. I don't usually read it, but that's me. Not my bag, baby. But today, I've quoted a poem from a diary, which I didn't think I'd ever do. So I'm curious as to what y'all think.

From Smoocher

People in MENSA should know better than to stick a MENSA bumper sticker on their car. If anything, MENSA should hand out bumper stickers as a trick, and if a member sticks it on their car, then they’re automatically disqualified.

From Valierran

work and be cheerful
till this interminable day is over
over, over, my time is beginning
but the day is almost over

From Good Advice

But NYC is expensive and that reality will slap you in the face harder than a transvesite lounge singer when you grab her microphone.

From Kuinileti (via Waterbelle)

okay fine. everything i made ended up looking like phallus, okay? there. i said it. phallus.

From CatieCake (via ChinaCat)

I wanted to ask what the hell the glove was about, but then I decided that there wasn’t an explanation that wouldn’t make me laugh so I chose not to ask.

From PixieKittie (via PixGrrl)

The past lingers like love like lint.