drew: internet celebrities $2,000
ken: in 2021 a statue of this late gorilla appeared opposite wall street's charging bull statue. andrew!
andrew: whooo issss ...... [sighs and exhales in frustration]
ken: oh how soon we forget. drew!
drew: who is harambe?
ken:
that's right, and the last clue in internet celebrities: forbes said
the memes featuring this feline are full of "existential angst" &
"nihlism" andrew!
andrew: who is grumpy cat
ken: grumpy cat is correct! cat are you grumpy you didn't get that one?
'm ripping up basil and couldn't be happier. tilapia tastes like empty set, a protein canvass. all vores wonder which links in food chain max delicious?
read buddenbrooks by thomas mann
"that's right, tilda. work and pray. tony ought to take a pattern from you; she's far too likely to be saucy and idle"
a tiny house in an alley off john street, where there lived an old woman who did a tiny trade in worsted dolls; they would ring the bell and, when the old dame appeared, inquire with deceptive courtesy, if herr and frau spittoon were at home - and then run away screaming with laughter. all these ragamuffinly tricks tony buddenbrook was guilty of
such a wooing as this she had never imagined
"i'll tell you something: i've a skeleton in my room at gottingen - a whole set of bones, you know, held together by wire. i've put an old policeman's uniform on it. ha, ha! isn't that great? but don't say anything to my father about it"
she did not answer, she did not look at him, but moved nearer to him on the sand-heap, and morten kissed her slowly and solemnly on the mouth. then they stared in different directions across the sand, and both felt furiously embarrassed
with two steps he was at the door, tore it open, and shouted down the corridor in a voice that would have outroared the wildest seas
his wart was powdered
"what do these men want? a lot of uneducated rowdies who see a chance for a bit of a scrimmage"
"you would do well, sir, to leave the good name of my house to me. i do not need to throw my money in the nearest ditch in order to show how good my credit is"
the dowry, which was whispered into my ear that first evening, contributed to my feeling. i love her: but it crowns my happiness and pride to think that when she becomes mine, our firm will at the same time gain a very considerable increase of capital
clara's gaze is dark and solemn and severe, and she sometimes lifts her hand to a head that always seems to ache. but they have brought a splendid present to the buddenbrooks: a huge brown bear stuffed in a standing position. a relative of the pastor's shot him somewhere in the heart of russia, and now he stands below in the vestibule with a card-tray between his paws
she leaned over and began to count the prune-pits on her brother's dessert-plate: tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor - finishing triumphantly with "senator" when she came to the last
"if it is really tuberculosis, one may as well give up hope"
and thus began tony buddenbrook's third marriage
punctuated by the silly tootling of the piccolo
he had composed a melody which was just the same read forward or backward, and based upon it a fugue which was to be played "crab-fashion"
"that's enough, tony," the senator said softly. "please don't put such ideas into the child's head"
all his contemporaries were either scrofulous or full of "evil humours"
the story of johnny thunderstorm, "those fellows drank swedish punch just like water"
christian came back to his brother's character and cited examples of thomas's egotism - painful anecdotes out of the distant past, which he, christian, had never forgotten, but carried about with him to feed his bitterness. and the senator retorted with scorn and with threats which he regretted a moment later. gerda leaned her head on her hand and watched them, with an expression in her eyes impossible to read. frau permaneder repeated over and over again, in her despair: "and mother lying there in the next room!"
they went through the suite of rooms into the hall, singing in a subdued way the first stanza of "o evergreen"
"no one may go in. papa is making his will"
"sit down! one moment!" shrieked the voice of an old woman. it was josephus, who sat in his shining cage at the end of the room and regarded him sidewise out of his venomous little eyes
a volume of edgar allan poe's tales inside his bible
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