On Sat, 3 Nov 2001 21:04:46 -0500, Jeffrey Jullich <[log in to unmask]>
wrote:
>Quoting Jeffrrey Something
>
>Please, Donna Passannanti,--- don't be so formal
- formality is my daily bread.
> Especially "Where you where born"--- so Erminian!
>What can I say?
>
You could always try to be a primary school teacher.....
>Oh! Now everyone understands s--t feud better. / (s--tiness, too). And
hah I
>was wondering where that "Internationale Calling Card" disappeared to
>outta my wallet heh heh heh.
- Jeff, is there somethings wrong with your tongue (and ethical order)
that you cannot pronounce or spell shit as shit (you spell it as s--t) and
fucking as fucking (you spell it F--kin')?
>
>See, 'mini'--
(Jaffray, my name is Erminia )
't's like this, I'm 'onna 'xplain: a poetess, she steals
>he-poet's words ('STEAL', I say 'STEAL', to be very exact and
>precision instrument in our choice of word, as poets), well, a person
>robbed, he cannot then have at his disposal [No!] to use what has been
>taken from him. Yes! Even from ghost town, as B.B. (Berthold Brecht)
>So, here your poem (41 words, 32 when non-repeating words "you",
>"you," "you", "you", etc.), the thirty-two words poor Brecht he's
>a-deprived of, comes to this (no red undancies):
>
- I thing you are only 1 step from asylum, Jaffroi- let me know the
address of the Psychiatric Hospital and room number which you are already
occupying with the disproportionate size of your mental malady and I will
send my brother there to bring you some oranges at arranged intervals to
keep you content. Mind you, these will be Sicialian oranges, so be careful,
accept them graciously.........
>am and are as asylum Brecht five fucking house I is knew know life
>like macro madrigalesque microtext Miss mister my on sister's steps
>the to typing well went what wish you
>
>So, now, how, he want to say where he lives, he had to say "a
>building" ("house" stolen); he has to say "all my opposite-of-death"
>("life" stolen), then "postage-stamp-sized nanograph" ("microtext",
>gone), ect. . . . Q.: How he feels, B.B.! Erminia, come be sealed in
>sound-proof booth, sixty seconds; outside, big clocking ticking per
>second, television studio audience betting, until Erminia she rings
>bell to reply {ding!}.
>
>> Please, companions and comrades, tell me, who of the two of us
>is right in his
>
>In a poll, I'm checking the right box: Erminia Brecht nee Berthold
>Passannanti as "fusion" option, my vote "breacing the tie" (crunch)
>
>Last: I'mma fix it up a little your 2nd language English poem, so
>she's a-rhyme (and your "spelling"):
>
>> Macrow
>> Microtecht
>> Mad regal -esque
>> And I my 'ster Brecht
>> Miss-a you and I wisque
>> You knew what my life it's-a like
>> I'm-a one two three four--- five! steps on the-a slum
>> I went to my sister her house
>> As you well knouse
>> What are youse
>> F--kin'
>> Typo
>> ?
>
>Luv,
>
>Candice "Jeffrey" Ward
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