ciphergoth: (Default)
[personal profile] ciphergoth
I am 32 today! Thanks for the birthday greetings, [livejournal.com profile] purplerabbits, [livejournal.com profile] adjectivemarcus, [livejournal.com profile] spikeylady, [livejournal.com profile] conflux, [livejournal.com profile] softfruit, [livejournal.com profile] wechsler, [livejournal.com profile] dennyd, [livejournal.com profile] daiisycake [livejournal.com profile] gemoon, [livejournal.com profile] nik_strychnine, [livejournal.com profile] ergotia, [livejournal.com profile] lilithmagna, and [livejournal.com profile] nisaba!

I had planned on leaving London today, but that would have me arriving just in time to be hiding in [livejournal.com profile] sibelian's room avoiding Buffy episodes whose predecessors I haven't seen yet, so I shall leave early tomorrow and arrive in the early afternoon. Sorry to everyone who sent presents, I know they're waiting for me in Edinburgh!

It looks like I'm staying with my current work after all at least for now - we've worked out an arrangement. So that's one fewer thing to worry about right now.

I take it everyone heard about the US firing on protesters in Falluja, Iraq, killing 13? I meant to post this when it was new, but better late than never in case anyone missed it.

I have apparently been banished to the Sixth Level of Hell.

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
LevelScore
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)Moderate
Level 2 (Lustful)Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)Moderate
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)Moderate
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)Very High
Level 7 (Violent)High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)Moderate


You approach Satan's wretched city where you behold a wide plain surrounded by iron walls. Before you are fields full of distress and torment terrible. Burning tombs are littered about the landscape. Inside these flaming sepulchers suffer the heretics, failing to believe in God and the afterlife, who make themselves audible by doleful sighs. You will join the wicked that lie here, and will be offered no respite. The three infernal Furies stained with blood, with limbs of women and hair of serpents, dwell in this circle of Hell.

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

Probably I was sent to Hell for telling this joke, which I promised last Friday. As I said, it's another meandering story which ends in a stupid pun; worse, you probably need to be from the UK and at least my age to get it. Oh, and it's so old it has hair on it.

Gervais is head chef at an out-of-town seafood restaurant. It's one of these places where the gimmick is that the customers get to choose what they'd like cooked from a large glass tank in the front of the restaurant. Life expectancy for the creatures in the tank is not high - unless that creature is our hero, Boris the Squid. For one thing, Boris doesn't look terrifically appetising, more like a cartoon creature than a real animal - bright green, with big eyes and hair growths that look disturbingly like a moustache and beard. So no-one picked him for a long time, and once he'd been nicknamed the staff grew fond of him (if it was a him - not many people can sex a squid). He received official protection from ever being chosen the day a regular customer chose him after seeing him in the tank time after time.

The waiter sighed, but scooped him out of the water and handed him to the head chef. Gervais looked down at Boris, said "I'll be sad to see you gone", and raised his big knife. But Boris looked right back at him with his big, soulful eyes, and seemed almost to whimper. At that, his heart gave out - he could not do it to the creature he'd known for so long. So he called over to the boy washing pots and pans nearby. "Hans", he said, "slice this squid finely for me, will you? I know it's not your normal job but I'd appreciate it". So the boy took the chef's big knife and raised it high above Boris's head. At that, Boris drew back, and though it surely wasn't possible it seemed as if a tear sprang from one eye and ran into Boris's beard. Hans realised at that moment that he couldn't kill it either, and a declaration was made that the customer would simply have to choose another animal; Boris would live on in that same tank until his natural end.

Which only goes to show that Hans that does dishes can be soft as Gervais, with mild green hairy-lipped squid.

I tell you this only so that you never need suffer hearing me tell it in person.

Date: 2003-05-01 11:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] some-fox.livejournal.com
*that's* what we've been waiting for. Oh boy. I don't feel so bad about liking Huey Lewis now...
Happy birthday anyway :-)

Profile

ciphergoth: (Default)
Paul Crowley

January 2025

S M T W T F S
   1234
5678 91011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Feb. 13th, 2026 11:07 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios