In clogs...
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Friday, February 7, 2014
"Palpable bitchery! I want to write a blog called Palpable Bitchery!"
Once you've said that — which I just did — you've got to do it, right? I mean, Stephen King spoke of detecting "an element of palpable bitchery" somewhere — in a woman? in 2 women? in "a sad and painful mess"? But then he stepped back. He undetected it. Unpalpated it. The famous writer somehow pulled the wrong word out of his ass.
But palpable bitchery must exist somewhere.
"Soon that peculiar odor, sometimes to a great distance given forth by the living sperm whale, was palpable to all the watch...."
It will be here, right now. Evidence exists. Palpate it. Learn it. Know it.
On a blog called Palpable Bitchery.
Thrust out your face fiercely, snuffing up the sea air as a sagacious ship's dog will... drawing nigh to some barbarous isle. A whale must be near.... Ascertain the precise bearing of the odor as nearly as possible and rapidly order the ship's course to be slightly altered, and the sail to be shortened....
But palpable bitchery must exist somewhere.
"Soon that peculiar odor, sometimes to a great distance given forth by the living sperm whale, was palpable to all the watch...."
It will be here, right now. Evidence exists. Palpate it. Learn it. Know it.
On a blog called Palpable Bitchery.
Thrust out your face fiercely, snuffing up the sea air as a sagacious ship's dog will... drawing nigh to some barbarous isle. A whale must be near.... Ascertain the precise bearing of the odor as nearly as possible and rapidly order the ship's course to be slightly altered, and the sail to be shortened....
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