therag

Hybrids and lets plays

Lindsay’s ears perked as she heard a familiar noise. It was a quiet night in the office and she swore she was alone. She told everyone to go while she finished editing the lets plays. Her ears perked again hearing a noise again. She spun her chair around and looked around. “Dude, it’s not funny to scare a girl.” she said hoping if someone was there they would get the message. 

Dot Dot Dot

Urgh, I’m early this month so I had to raid the school’s stash of tampons since I left all my stuff at home.  Then I realized, I’ve synced with all the girls in my class!  

(On a side note, I’ve noticed that during period weeks, when all my girls are on the rag, the boys are extra rowdy and crazy.  Plus there’s a weird smell in the air.)

Anyway, I’d like my steak medium rare.

The Sun Rising

The Sun Rising by JOHN DONNE

               Busy old fool, unruly sun,

               Why dost thou thus,

Through windows, and through curtains call on us?

Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run?

               Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide

               Late school boys and sourprentices,

         Go tell court huntsmen that the king will ride,

         Call country ants to harvest offices,

Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,

Nor hours, days, months, which are therags of time.


               Thy beams, so reverend and strong

               Why shouldst thou think?

I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,

But that I would not lose her sight so long;

               If her eyes have not blinded thine,

               Look, and tomorrow late, tell me,

         Whether both th’ Indias of spice and mine

         Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with me.

Ask for those kings whom thou saw’st yesterday,

And thou shalt hear, All here in one bed lay.


               She’s all states, and all princes, I,

               Nothing else is.

Princes do but play us; compared to this,

All honor’s mimic, all wealth alchemy.

               Thou, sun, art half as happy as we,

               In that the world’s contracted thus.

         Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be

         To warm the world, that’s done in warming us.

Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;

This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere