in 4th grade i new a kid named roland who was from poland.
you can make some mean noise on a roland.
and coincidentally, our prinicpal used to paddle roland outside the class every day for not doing his homework.
whack!
later on it was acknowledged that poor roland couldn't read english. FUCKERS.
ah ohio, why didn't devo run into my school and save our asses?
m.
ps roland was teh noiseboy. shame that like a boys choir, hairful puberty ruins certain noisemaking areas. the prime years of noise learning are ruined!!! where's the nair? roland was very electroclash too. pale as crap and red, buzzed hair and freakin total nerd clothes... and i couldn't talk cause i was clothed in solid goodwill fashions. yeah, so poland is good stuff to me. i hope roland survived.
-- msp (...), September 24th, 2004 1:44 AM. (msp) (later) (link
:(
― Allyzay Science Explosion (allyzay), Friday, 24 September 2004 05:11 (twenty years ago)
coffee love-a delightful tale
Message: cute for christ, one of my favorite friendsters
recently posted this tale, and I thought I share it
with everyone else.
He met her at a party. She was so outstanding.
Many guys were chasing after her. While he was
so normal, nobody paid attention to him.
At the end of the party, he invited her to have
coffee with him. She was surprised but due to
being polite, she promised. They sat in a nice
coffee shop. He was too nervous to say anything.
She felt uncomfortable; she thought to
herself, “Please, let me go home…”
Suddenly he asked the waiter, “Would you please
give me some salt? I’d like to put it in my coffee.”
Everybody stared at him. So strange! His face
turned red but still, he put the salt in his coffee and
drank it.
She asked him curiously, “Why you have this
hobby?”
He replied, “When I was a little boy, I lived near the
sea, I liked playing by the sea. I
could feel the taste of the sea, just like the taste of
the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty
coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my
hometown. I miss my hometown so much. I miss
my parents who are still living there.”
While saying that tears filled his eyes. She was
deeply touched. That’s his true feeling, from the
bottom of his heart. A man who can tell out his
homesickness, he must be a man who loves
home, care about home, has responsibility of
home… Then she also started to speak, spoke
about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her
family.
That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful
beginning of their story. They continued to date.
She found that actually he was a man who meets
all her demands; he had tolerance, was kind-
hearted, warm, careful. He was a good person but
she almost missed him! Thanks to his salty coffee!
Then the story was just like every beautiful love
story: the princess married to the prince, then they
were living the happy life… And, every time she
made coffee for him, she put some salt in the
coffee, as she knew that’s the way he liked it.
After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter
which said: “My dearest, please forgive me,
forgive my whole life’s lie. This was the only lie I
said to you—the salty coffee.
“Remember the first time we dated? I was so
nervous at that time. Actually, I wanted some
sugar, but I said ‘salt’. It was hard for me to
change so I just went ahead. I never thought that
could be the start of our communication!
“I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life,
but I was too afraid to do that, as I have promised
not to tell a lie to you for anything. Now that I’m
dying, I’m afraid of nothing, so I tell the truth.
“I don’t like the salty coffee! What a strange bad
taste! But I have had salty coffee for my whole life!
“Since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything I
do for you. Having you with me is my biggest
happiness for my whole life. If I can live for the
second time, still I want to know you and have you
for my whole life, even though I have to drink the
salty coffee again.”
Her tears made the letter totally wet.
One day, someone asked her, “What’s the taste
of salty coffee?”
She replied, “It’s sweet.”
― Ian c=====8 (orion), Saturday, 2 October 2004 00:26 (twenty years ago)
one month passes...
four weeks pass...
three months pass...
two months pass...
four months pass...
five months pass...