I think I wrote that around when I was around 19, or 20 and jus learnin how to be a drunk.
Actually, that's not bad. If you can pad it out to a few thousand lines, we can talk me being your literary agent. You know, something about the Kublai Khan pitching a "stately pleasure dome," throw in a sulky Myrmidon putting a Trojan on his horse, add a racy affait about the Doktor learned in all the sciences who can't get laid without Mephisto's help. A few caged birds singing. Whimpering actually, not banging. Then when 'was Sie besitzen sehen Sie wie in weiten, und was verschwand wird Ihr zur Wirchlichkeiten,' gimme a call and we'll talk contract.
Personally, I can't figger out why my poetic aspirations came to naught. They say poets are born not made, right? Well, I was certainly born. I even got a certificate to prove it. But the well-springs of my creativity are stoppered up tighter than a tampaxed toilet. The Muses ghosted me like the neurotic chicks on hook-up sites do once they see my real photo and bank statement. (The birth certificate part was plagiarized from Saki. Sorry.)
[/quote] That was actually very funny. Bravo! LCAQ56B
[/quote] I can pad out shi*t likes this till the cow comes home. Now here's an idea. I can write a buncha girbberish, (that Gerbill languange, for the uninitiated.) you can write a buncha gibberish, we mix up the papers.... you write a page, I write a page, mix the whole shit together. You can be my literary agent, I can be your literay agent. New York Times Bestseller, guaranteed. !!! Ba! We can put in some self-help hints at strategic places. Maybe we could be on Oprah. !!!
[quote=BauL certainly, peduncle may have a botanicill meaning, in fact it does. nindtegeaee amakndfjajfd . //whecggd which are musimillfkajdfj more fragant
we really have to get a Monty Python show goin hear?
Now don't get distressed Beijinger folk, just because Dancing requires addressing peduncular thoughts. Now this is Ped Uncle li yer, to which I suggest you quizzen Gio,
However I wish to stress the word peduncular, which has manifest, manifold and many meanings , whiche youe maye alle perusee, kindlye ande softleye. Ba! e
I'm sorry. Earlier, I read perpendicular. Most every family gots a ped uncle. And he ain't welcome at no dances. Mr. Spragg, my junior high science teacher, tried to tell us peduncle means one-flowered or some such. He wanted to take us on field trips to go see such. Personally I thought it was just another "grooming" ploy on his part. Which is a loathsome practice, unless it's carried on by Muslims imported to the U.K., in which case it's a crime to talk about with an air of disapproval.
Thank you for writing all day long here.
So when the Beijingmener gonna start spoolin out me some cashola, eh? Gimme some greenbacks, y'know? Ya need editors? Buddy, I can editor like aint't nobody editored before. Ya, want yer phrasal verbs all correct? Lickity split and hoppity hop I can get 'em done. Also, I can usually enter the code above on the first attempt. (I said usually)
[/quote]
Buddy, I meant that you have a lot of stamina and have a lot of material to write. Apologies if I sounded opposite.
[quote=BauL certainly, peduncle may have a botanicill meaning, in fact it does. nindtegeaee amakndfjajfd . //whecggd which are musimillfkajdfj more fragant
we really have to get a Monty Python show goin hear?
Now don't get distressed Beijinger folk, just because Dancing requires addressing peduncular thoughts. Now this is Ped Uncle li yer, to which I suggest you quizzen Gio,
However I wish to stress the word peduncular, which has manifest, manifold and many meanings , whiche youe maye alle perusee, kindlye ande softleye. Ba! e
I'm sorry. Earlier, I read perpendicular. Most every family gots a ped uncle. And he ain't welcome at no dances. Mr. Spragg, my junior high science teacher, tried to tell us peduncle means one-flowered or some such. He wanted to take us on field trips to go see such. Personally I thought it was just another "grooming" ploy on his part. Which is a loathsome practice, unless it's carried on by Muslims imported to the U.K., in which case it's a crime to talk about with an air of disapproval.
Thank you for writing all day long here. *good*
[/quote] So when the Beijingmener gonna start spoolin out me some cashola, eh? Gimme some greenbacks, y'know? Ya need editors? Buddy, I can editor like aint't nobody editored before. Ya, want yer phrasal verbs all correct? Lickity split and hoppity hop I can get 'em done. Also, I can usually enter the code above on the first attempt. (I said usually)
Now here's a coupla things, not related to the article, but maybe what Mr. Zues can fill me in on.
So one cold winter day, I cooked up a big bowl of mung bean soup. That is 绿豆。 Girlfriend freaks out..... `are you crazy ... 不能做绿豆汤在冬天 !!! She absolutely refused to eat any of it, wouldn't even taste a spoonful. Another things is socks in the washing machine. I just throw everything in, add some juice, turn it on. Jieshule. No, no, no says girlfriend, must not wash socks this way!!
Zues, fill me in!
And another thing. All 17,322 of my Chinese girlfriends, when they help me do the washing up of dishes, refuse to put the dishes, bowls, spoons upside down. Look it is simple. Ya put the bowls upside down on a bit of fabric, the water remaining from washing/rinsing drains out, and everything is dry in an hour. You put bowls upside up, and the next day ya still got a bowl with residual washing water sitting in yer bowl. I am not a rocket scientist.
However, I have learned. Don't funk with a woman cooking in yer kitchen, and don't funk with a woman mopping yer floor. Or doing your laundry. Just shut up and go read some Wittgenstein.
Now here's a coupla things, not related to the article, but maybe what Mr. Zues can fill me in on.
So one cold winter day, I cooked up a big bowl of mung bean soup. That is 绿豆。 Girlfriend freaks out..... `are you crazy ... 不能做绿豆汤在冬天 !!! She absolutely refused to eat any of it, wouldn't even taste a spoonful. Another things is socks in the washing machine. I just throw everything in, add some juice, turn it on. Jieshule. No, no, no says girlfriend, must not wash socks this way!!
This is useful and interesting information, by my ken. I do like cats, and one minus 20 December day a cat came mewling and injured outsida my door as I was leaving to University. Pure white, except for the blood red stain on her back, mauled, but escaped from, I suppose a coyote, as they were all about that winter.
I didn't have time at the time, just opened the door, she rushed in out of desperation, starvation and injury, and into the basement. I opened a tin of tuna, put it on basement floor and went off to school. I was living alone at the time, at the inherited farmhouse, countryside, southern Ontario.
I don't think kitty cat showed her face for about two weeks. I knew she was there, as every day I would put out a can of tuna and every afternoon it was licked clean.
Eventually, though, we got to know each other, and co-habited for about 15 years. Don't go getting funny ideas, Gio.
I called her Milkweed. My afterwards girlfriend called her Whitey. She weren't too creative, but she had a really nice ass.
Poetry was invented by people and it belongs to the people, so there’s nothing that can ever stop you!(unquote)
Can't "the people" stop me? After all they own my poetry---you say. In fact, poetry more properly belongs only to those who write it and those who can appreciate it, assuming it is worth being appreciated to begin with. Perhaps I should say "can and DO" appreciate it. I read just enough of Pound's Cantos to know 1) I can indeed appreciate the stuff; 2) I have other pressing demands on my artistic time. So, sadly, Pound's work does not belong to me. Conversely, I do not appreciate Angelou's word skeins, (my berserker gods sei dank), so I am among the people her work does not belong to. In any case, "the people" is a collectivist abstraction, a gilding of mediocrity by the mediocre menschenmenge.
Poet tree grow in the muddy water, in the dirt. From foisted forms and idignant soil grows a thought so perspicasious, as to be undeniable.
I think I wrote that around when I was around 19, or 20 and jus learnin how to be a drunk.
Actually, that's not bad. If you can pad it out to a few thousand lines, we can talk me being your literary agent. You know, something about the Kublai Khan pitching a "stately pleasure dome," throw in a sulky Myrmidon putting a Trojan on his horse, add a racy affait about the Doktor learned in all the sciences who can't get laid without Mephisto's help. A few caged birds singing. Whimpering actually, not banging. Then when 'was Sie besitzen sehen Sie wie in weiten, und was verschwand wird Ihr zur Wirchlichkeiten,' gimme a call and we'll talk contract.
Personally, I can't figger out why my poetic aspirations came to naught. They say poets are born not made, right? Well, I was certainly born. I even got a certificate to prove it. But the well-springs of my creativity are stoppered up tighter than a tampaxed toilet. The Muses ghosted me like the neurotic chicks on hook-up sites do once they see my real photo and bank statement. (The birth certificate part was plagiarized from Saki. Sorry.)
I have been vaping since about 2015, when the vape technology was still primitve. Before, you could buy all the stuff off Taobao. Then they removed all sales of anything vape related off of Taobao, so I had to get everything from a private store in Shanghai. Now they are eliminating all sales of tank like vapes, all vape oil.
I went from being to a two pack a day smoker, who hacked and coughed for half an hour every morning, to someone, whom through vaping, does not cough, clothes and house don't stink of smoke, and vaping has no perceptible effect on my cardio vascular system. Also (until recently) much cheaper. But there is no state monopoly on vapes, and vaping related stuff, as there is in tobacco. Now there are trying to shut it down as much as they can. I am addicted to nicotine, though I did manage to quit for a year, 2000 being the year. Now I don't even make the attempt. I know what I am and too old to change. Not even interested.
Poetry was invented by people and it belongs to the people, so there’s nothing that can ever stop you!(unquote)
Can't "the people" stop me? After all they own my poetry---you say. In fact, poetry more properly belongs only to those who write it and those who can appreciate it, assuming it is worth being appreciated to begin with. Perhaps I should say "can and DO" appreciate it. I read just enough of Pound's Cantos to know 1) I can indeed appreciate the stuff; 2) I have other pressing demands on my artistic time. So, sadly, Pound's work does not belong to me. Conversely, I do not appreciate Angelou's word skeins, (my berserker gods sei dank), so I am among the people her work does not belong to. In any case, "the people" is a collectivist abstraction, a gilding of mediocrity by the mediocre menschenmenge.
Poet tree grow in the muddy water, in the dirt. From foisted forms and idignant soil grows a thought so perspicasious, as to be undeniable.
I think I wrote that around when I was around 19, or 20 and jus learnin how to be a drunk.
Actually, that's not bad. If you can pad it out to a few thousand lines, we can talk me being your literary agent. You know, something about the Kublai Khan pitching a "stately pleasure dome," throw in a sulky Myrmidon putting a Trojan on his horse, add a racy affait about the Doktor learned in all the sciences who can't get laid without Mephisto's help. A few caged birds singing. Whimpering actually, not banging. Then when 'was Sie besitzen sehen Sie wie in weiten, und was verschwand wird Ihr zur Wirchlichkeiten,' gimme a call and we'll talk contract.
Personally, I can't figger out why my poetic aspirations came to naught. They say poets are born not made, right? Well, I was certainly born. I even got a certificate to prove it. But the well-springs of my creativity are stoppered up tighter than a tampaxed toilet. The Muses ghosted me like the neurotic chicks on hook-up sites do once they see my real photo and bank statement. (The birth certificate part was plagiarized from Saki. Sorry.)
Well, I did just whipe my bum recently, I am still trying to interpret the bum stains,they might be Assyrian though. Give me a day and three, figure this jazz out.
A thing that drives me nuts. You go gets a meal. They give you a bowl of rice to go with meal. I didn't ask for bowl of rice, I don't a want bowl of rice, I ain't gonna eat any rice, and then you're gonna throw it in the garbage. Where does insanity start?
Poetry was invented by people and it belongs to the people, so there’s nothing that can ever stop you!(unquote)
Can't "the people" stop me? After all they own my poetry---you say. In fact, poetry more properly belongs only to those who write it and those who can appreciate it, assuming it is worth being appreciated to begin with. Perhaps I should say "can and DO" appreciate it. I read just enough of Pound's Cantos to know 1) I can indeed appreciate the stuff; 2) I have other pressing demands on my artistic time. So, sadly, Pound's work does not belong to me. Conversely, I do not appreciate Angelou's word skeins, (my berserker gods sei dank), so I am among the people her work does not belong to. In any case, "the people" is a collectivist abstraction, a gilding of mediocrity by the mediocre menschenmenge.
Poet tree grow in the muddy water, in the dirt. From foisted forms and idignant soil grows a thought so perspicasious, as to be undeniable.
I think I wrote that around when I was around 19, or 20 and jus learnin how to be a drunk.
Actually, that's not bad. If you can pad it out to a few thousand lines, we can talk me being your literary agent. You know, something about the Kublai Khan pitching a "stately pleasure dome," throw in a sulky Myrmidon putting a Trojan on his horse, add a racy affait about the Doktor learned in all the sciences who can't get laid without Mephisto's help. A few caged birds singing. Whimpering actually, not banging. Then when 'was Sie besitzen sehen Sie wie in weiten, und was verschwand wird Ihr zur Wirchlichkeiten,' gimme a call and we'll talk contract.
Personally, I can't figger out why my poetic aspirations came to naught. They say poets are born not made, right? Well, I was certainly born. I even got a certificate to prove it. But the well-springs of my creativity are stoppered up tighter than a tampaxed toilet. The Muses ghosted me like the neurotic chicks on hook-up sites do once they see my real photo and bank statement. (The birth certificate part was plagiarized from Saki. Sorry.)
Allusions to diverse references, without coherent connections and reference do not cleverness make. None the less, I have discovered, that generally speaking, I do not like the south of China. Neither the people, not the landscape, though people, well people are people , and there are bunches of them I like from everywhere. Aside frome this, Chinese speakingly, I am a dongbeiren. I hafta get my ass back up there. Don't like the south of China.
Poetry was invented by people and it belongs to the people, so there’s nothing that can ever stop you!(unquote)
Can't "the people" stop me? After all they own my poetry---you say. In fact, poetry more properly belongs only to those who write it and those who can appreciate it, assuming it is worth being appreciated to begin with. Perhaps I should say "can and DO" appreciate it. I read just enough of Pound's Cantos to know 1) I can indeed appreciate the stuff; 2) I have other pressing demands on my artistic time. So, sadly, Pound's work does not belong to me. Conversely, I do not appreciate Angelou's word skeins, (my berserker gods sei dank), so I am among the people her work does not belong to. In any case, "the people" is a collectivist abstraction, a gilding of mediocrity by the mediocre menschenmenge.
Poet tree grow in the muddy water, in the dirt. From foisted forms and idignant soil grows a thought so perspicasious, as to be undeniable.
I think I wrote that around when I was around 19, or 20 and jus learnin how to be a drunk.
Well, food and sex. Is there something else to think about?, Oh yea, give me some money, food, sex and liquor, and money, Maybe smokes too. you gets all my money and independence, likkity split, Bobbi''s yer aunt.
Well, I was trying to link the rhombohedron depicted in Duerer's, "Melancolia" to the Tyrodal rune secretly incised with UV visible ink into the dodecahedron tattooed on Maxime's neck in the tale, "Return to Whidbey," BUT all this without any squaring of the hippopotamus. No food or sex there. Does this make me a pervert? Rhombohedrophilia: "the love that cannot spell its name."
I did know someone that was in love with squares. Does that that assist yout p0rrtrotrop34 version? ba 吧？ (it helps to throw in a bit of gibberish an d puthaohusgusxio to furck ub the boughts. ) ba. Which I beleive are legion.
Well my pappy Giuseppe was out in the barn, pullin some strings, I was reading Wittgenstein, when a splashing resounds plasticly, but profoundly from the nearby lake. Opeaonogaonara , There, canoe wise, was Hairy Mary, and Crazy Timmy. Gio was being pulled in the wake, with some cordage around his neck, and Heidigger straddling him. Now Mary steps on the side of the canoe, though I hald told her multitudionlsy... Bow or prow, bow or prow, baby, make up yer mind. Nonetheless, she was a swimmer, emerged immaculate from the depths, wearing her best negligeeeeeeee., with nipples protruding immensly, and she and I repaired to my fangzi to consider.
Well, food and sex. Is there something else to think about?, Oh yea, give me some money, food, sex and liquor, and money, Maybe smokes too. you gets all my money and independence, likkity split, Bobbi''s yer aunt.
Kids' CLUB? That's pretty medieval. Usually I just use a backhand across the mouth. Settles 'em right down.
Kids club, yeah me dad 'ad onna them out behind the barn. Any kids I don't know hereabouts, ya get to be enjoinded wi the club. So Dear old usta say. ( i think iif fuched the boots)
If 新华 got hold of this, think of the scandalous headline they could garble it into: "Lao Wai Secret Society Clubs Kids During Holiday Staycations." Revamp the wording a bit and Western wire services would pay bo-coo bucks for a story about whupping li'l Uighur kids as a sick Sino-sport. Beating the halal outta 'em, as it were. "Russian Forces in Full Retreat As Absentee Putin Wields Kids' Club in Sicko Far-East Staycation."
So boss asks me if Im Crstitn and thuse want Chistmas off., upspoke me, no, I am Taoist, thus I want every day off, It may not jibe.
He'll smek you upside the head with that there Uncarved Block the Daoists keep ready. You know the Block, right? The one the builders rejected for the Temple, so Jesus sold it for the Pearl of Great Price and the Free-Will, Full-Immersion, Serpent-Sifting Anabaptists use it for a stumbling block for the virgins who forgot the lamp oil and have to pantomime the parable with neiher illumination nor lubrication.
Well I did say something above, about the Uncarved Block, but it got deleted, or a least, not installed. Werd musta come frome some wear, shut this moofo hup. None the less, the concept of the uncarved block is that there is an intrin sick nature, that needs to be discovered, as apposed to created. But I must say, I have been whacked with a coupla uncraved blockes, I messed up the blocks, but didn't do nuthin to me head, as I reached down and snatched the pearl of the stone rejected rattler snake, ba!
Re: Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Support this Poet &...
Actually, that's not bad. If you can pad it out to a few thousand lines, we can talk me being your literary agent. You know, something about the Kublai Khan pitching a "stately pleasure dome," throw in a sulky Myrmidon putting a Trojan on his horse, add a racy affait about the Doktor learned in all the sciences who can't get laid without Mephisto's help. A few caged birds singing. Whimpering actually, not banging. Then when 'was Sie besitzen sehen Sie wie in weiten, und was verschwand wird Ihr zur Wirchlichkeiten,' gimme a call and we'll talk contract.
Personally, I can't figger out why my poetic aspirations came to naught. They say poets are born not made, right? Well, I was certainly born. I even got a certificate to prove it. But the well-springs of my creativity are stoppered up tighter than a tampaxed toilet. The Muses ghosted me like the neurotic chicks on hook-up sites do once they see my real photo and bank statement. (The birth certificate part was plagiarized from Saki. Sorry.)
[/quote] That was actually very funny.
Bravo! LCAQ56B
[/quote] I can pad out shi*t likes this till the cow comes home. Now here's an idea. I can write a buncha girbberish, (that Gerbill languange, for the uninitiated.) you can write a buncha gibberish, we mix up the papers.... you write a page, I write a page, mix the whole shit together. You can be my literary agent, I can be your literay agent. New York Times Bestseller, guaranteed. !!! Ba! We can put in some self-help hints at strategic places. Maybe we could be on Oprah. !!!
Re: Dance Your Hearts Out at These Places in Beijing!
[/quote]
Buddy, I meant that you have a lot of stamina and have a lot of material to write. Apologies if I sounded opposite.
Re: Dance Your Hearts Out at These Places in Beijing!
Thank you for writing all day long here. *good*
[/quote] So when the Beijingmener gonna start spoolin out me some cashola, eh? Gimme some greenbacks, y'know? Ya need editors? Buddy, I can editor like aint't nobody editored before. Ya, want yer phrasal verbs all correct? Lickity split and hoppity hop I can get 'em done. Also, I can usually enter the code above on the first attempt. (I said usually)
Re: Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Support this Poet &...
Re: Mandarin Monday: Roaring Iron? Foot Long Jade? How...
However, I have learned. Don't funk with a woman cooking in yer kitchen, and don't funk with a woman mopping yer floor. Or doing your laundry. Just shut up and go read some Wittgenstein.
Re: Mandarin Monday: Roaring Iron? Foot Long Jade? How...
Our NiuNiu is a calico cat, 三花猫 或者 三色猫. She's very special to us.
Re: Mandarin Monday: Roaring Iron? Foot Long Jade? How...
Now here's a coupla things, not related to the article, but maybe what Mr. Zues can fill me in on.
So one cold winter day, I cooked up a big bowl of mung bean soup. That is 绿豆。 Girlfriend freaks out..... `are you crazy ... 不能做绿豆汤在冬天 !!! She absolutely refused to eat any of it, wouldn't even taste a spoonful. Another things is socks in the washing machine. I just throw everything in, add some juice, turn it on. Jieshule. No, no, no says girlfriend, must not wash socks this way!!
Zues, fill me in!
Re: Mandarin Monday: Roaring Iron? Foot Long Jade? How...
This is useful and interesting information, by my ken. I do like cats, and one minus 20 December day a cat came mewling and injured outsida my door as I was leaving to University. Pure white, except for the blood red stain on her back, mauled, but escaped from, I suppose a coyote, as they were all about that winter.
I didn't have time at the time, just opened the door, she rushed in out of desperation, starvation and injury, and into the basement. I opened a tin of tuna, put it on basement floor and went off to school. I was living alone at the time, at the inherited farmhouse, countryside, southern Ontario.
I don't think kitty cat showed her face for about two weeks. I knew she was there, as every day I would put out a can of tuna and every afternoon it was licked clean.
Eventually, though, we got to know each other, and co-habited for about 15 years. Don't go getting funny ideas, Gio.
I called her Milkweed. My afterwards girlfriend called her Whitey. She weren't too creative, but she had a really nice ass.
Re: Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Support this Poet &...
Bravo! LCAQ56B
Re: Delayed Ban on Sale of Non-Tobacco Flavored Vapes Set to...
I have been vaping since about 2015, when the vape technology was still primitve. Before, you could buy all the stuff off Taobao. Then they removed all sales of anything vape related off of Taobao, so I had to get everything from a private store in Shanghai. Now they are eliminating all sales of tank like vapes, all vape oil.
I went from being to a two pack a day smoker, who hacked and coughed for half an hour every morning, to someone, whom through vaping, does not cough, clothes and house don't stink of smoke, and vaping has no perceptible effect on my cardio vascular system. Also (until recently) much cheaper. But there is no state monopoly on vapes, and vaping related stuff, as there is in tobacco. Now there are trying to shut it down as much as they can. I am addicted to nicotine, though I did manage to quit for a year, 2000 being the year. Now I don't even make the attempt. I know what I am and too old to change. Not even interested.
Re: Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Support this Poet &...
Re: Make it a Staycation: Hotel Packages & More for National...
A thing that drives me nuts. You go gets a meal. They give you a bowl of rice to go with meal. I didn't ask for bowl of rice, I don't a want bowl of rice, I ain't gonna eat any rice, and then you're gonna throw it in the garbage. Where does insanity start?
Re: Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Support this Poet &...
Re: Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Support this Poet &...
I think I wrote that around when I was around 19, or 20 and jus learnin how to be a drunk.
Re: Beijing News You Might Have Missed This Week, Sep 24
Re: Beijing News You Might Have Missed This Week, Sep 24
Now I must say that there is little tracttion in `hey baby I like your big lips'. Doesn't fly
Now some orther things I may express may worrk, but they may be feed to the fishes, Qian. Did I snee ntha in?
Re: Beijing News You Might Have Missed This Week, Sep 24
Well my pappy Giuseppe was out in the barn, pullin some strings, I was reading Wittgenstein, when a splashing resounds plasticly, but profoundly from the nearby lake. Opeaonogaonara , There, canoe wise, was Hairy Mary, and Crazy Timmy. Gio was being pulled in the wake, with some cordage around his neck, and Heidigger straddling him. Now Mary steps on the side of the canoe, though I hald told her multitudionlsy... Bow or prow, bow or prow, baby, make up yer mind. Nonetheless, she was a swimmer, emerged immaculate from the depths, wearing her best negligeeeeeeee., with nipples protruding immensly, and she and I repaired to my fangzi to consider.
Re: Beijing News You Might Have Missed This Week, Sep 24
Well, food and sex. Is there something else to think about?, Oh yea, give me some money, food, sex and liquor, and money, Maybe smokes too. you gets all my money and independence, likkity split, Bobbi''s yer aunt.
Re: Make it a Staycation: Hotel Packages & More for National...
Gio wrote,
`neither illumination nor lubrication'
Fcuking basrad has spie cam in me bedroom, ba! Bobs yer aunt! ba¬
Re: Make it a Staycation: Hotel Packages & More for National...
Well I did say something above, about the Uncarved Block, but it got deleted, or a least, not installed. Werd musta come frome some wear, shut this moofo hup. None the less, the concept of the uncarved block is that there is an intrin sick nature, that needs to be discovered, as apposed to created. But I must say, I have been whacked with a coupla uncraved blockes, I messed up the blocks, but didn't do nuthin to me head, as I reached down and snatched the pearl of the stone rejected rattler snake, ba!