[SFP]

I liked the Kindle Clipping feature which doesn't seem to exist on my latest iteration. Author's write things that create responses on all kinds of levels and I copy them out for future reading. This one, for instance, makes me smile:

Don’t Poke the Baby:
She crawled out of bed, showered and dressed, went downstairs. Her parents were heading out that afternoon, but when she walked into the living room, her father was leaning over the basket, prodding Alice with his finger. “Hello, small person,” he said. “Desmond,” her mum said from the couch, “don’t poke the baby.” Her dad stopped, looked guilty, then leaned closer. “You may have won this round,” he whispered, “but I will have my—” “And don’t threaten the baby, either.” “I wasn’t,” he said, straightening up immediately. “Just leave her alone. You’re annoying her.” “I’m not annoying her. She doesn’t even know enough to be annoyed. She’s, what, a week old?” “She’s three months.” “She’s three months in our years, but how old is she in baby years?” “Come away from her. Steph, could you pick her up? It’s time for her feed.” Valkyrie went to the baby while her dad frowned. “Why didn’t you ask me to pick her up? I was standing right there. Don’t you trust me? That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t trust me.” “I do trust you,” her mum said. “I just don’t trust you a lot. Stephanie has safe hands.” “You want to see safe hands?” her dad asked. He went to the fruit bowl on the side table, took two apples and proceeded to juggle them. “See? Safe as anything.” Her mum frowned at him. “Are you proposing you juggle our new-born child?” “Of course not,” he said. “I’d only be able to juggle her if you’d had twins. Otherwise it’s just throwing.” “Steph,” her mum said, “give me my baby and never let your father near her.” “Deal,” Valkyrie said, handing her sister over. Her dad put the apples back in the bowl. “Everyone seems to forget that I’m not a complete novice at this. Don’t I already have one beautiful daughter, and she turned out OK, didn’t she? I didn’t drop her once.” “You dropped her when we were at the zoo,” Valkyrie’s mum said. Valkyrie spun her head to him. “You dropped me?” “Ah,” he said, “I’d forgotten about that. In my defence, though, you were a very wriggly child. One moment you were there, the next you were, you know, on the ground in the penguin enclosure.” She blinked. “You dropped me in the penguin enclosure?” “I was leaning over the railing and you just plopped out of my grip. You weren’t hurt, or anything. And even if you had been, I’m sure the penguins would have taken you in, raised you as one of their own. It would have been a different life for you, but still a good one.” “I can’t believe you dropped me.” “Neither could the people around us. Some crazy woman stormed up and roared at me for five minutes about how I shouldn’t be putting my child in danger.” “That was me,” Valkyrie’s mum muttered. “Now it makes sense,” Valkyrie said, collapsing on to the couch. “My fear of zoos. My fear of penguins. My fear of being dropped in a zoo with the penguins. It’s all Dad’s fault.” “Most things are,” he admitted sadly, and wandered over to his wife. “But I won’t make the same mistakes again, I promise. From this moment on, I will be the best father the world has ever seen. Wifey, may I please hold my child?” “I’m feeding her.” “Give me the child and the bottle. I’ll feed her.” Valkyrie’s mum looked at him suspiciously. “When you hold a baby, what is the most important thing to remember?” “Not to drop it,” he said proudly. “Well, yes, well done, dear, but I was thinking more about how you hold the baby.” “Ah,” he said, “of course. The secret to holding a baby is to pick it up by the scruff of the neck.” “You’re thinking of kittens.” “Pick it up by its ears, then.” “You’re thinking of nothing.” “Can I please just hold her?” “I don’t think that’s wise.” “A lot of things aren’t wise, Melissa. Is crossing the road with your eyes closed wise? No, but I do it anyway.” His wife nodded. “Stephanie, you’re in charge of teaching Alice how to cross the road.” “Gotcha.” Her dad held his hands out, and finally her mum sighed. “Be careful,” she warned. “Trust me,” he said. She handed the baby over. Valkyrie’s dad held Alice out straight, looked at her and smiled. “Aren’t you so cute?” he asked. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you the cutest?” He brought her in close, held her against his face and staggered around the room. “Help me!” he cried. “A facehugger has me!” Valkyrie and her mother observed him as he lifted her off, chuckling. “You know,” he said, “from Alien. The facehugger.” He held the baby against his face again. “Help me, Sigourney Weaver! Help me!” Alice, for her part, seemed bemused by the whole thing. They left half an hour later, when Alice was in her basket and sleeping.

[Derek Landy: Death Bringer, Highlight on Page 330 | Loc. 4417-64 | Added on Thursday, May 09, 2013, 10:32 AM]

Anyone else got anything else to share?

[SFP]

Stories:
'Before she became ill, David’s mother would often tell him that stories were alive. They weren’t alive in the way that people were alive, or even dogs or cats. People were alive whether you chose to notice them or not, while dogs tended to make you notice them if they decided that you weren’t paying them enough attention. Cats, meanwhile, were very good at pretending people didn’t exist at all when it suited them, but that was another matter entirely. Stories were different, though: they came alive in the telling. Without a human voice to read them aloud, or a pair of wide eyes following them by flashlight beneath a blanket, they had no real existence in our world. They were like seeds in the beak of a bird, waiting to fall to earth, or the notes of a song laid out on a sheet, yearning for an instrument to bring their music into being. They lay dormant, hoping for the chance to emerge. Once someone started to read them, they could begin to change. They could take root in the imagination, and transform the reader. Stories wanted to be read, David’s mother would whisper. They needed it. It was the reason they forced themselves from their world into ours. They wanted us to give them life.' [John Connolly; The Book Of Lost Things (2006); Page 3; Added on Wednesday, February 27, 2013, 11:08 PM]

[SFP]

Memory:
It’s funny how some of the most enjoyable experiences of your life can make you the saddest. I guess it’s because the past is a country you can’t ever go back to—once it’s done, it’s done. Your passport gets stamped by the clock, and the only thing you have left is something that’s already fading. Memories are just postcards from a place you visited once.
[D. D. Barant; Killing Rocks (Bloodhound Files 03); Page 19]

Craigslist: new york > bronx > all community > pets
Reply flag (?) : miscategorized prohibited spam best of
Posted: 2013-10-02, 3:14 PM EDT

11 REPTILES
(fordham)

Hi,
I am going through a difficult breakup and impulsively adopted 16 types of reptiles over Craiglist.
I have made a huge mistake. My roommates are furious. I have 1 ball python, 7 various geckos, a bearded dragon, and 2 red slider turtles.

They are all named "Amanda."

No rehoming fee.

Location: fordman
it's not ok to contact this poster with other services

Posting ID: 4105291680
Posted: 2013-10-02,
3:14PM EDT

Excerpt from
Flagged and Removed by Darcie Wilder

Craigslist: “new york >manhattan >all services offered >event services
Reply flag [?] : miscategorized prohibited spam best of
Posted: 2013-09-07, 7:58 PM EDT

Hoarding Tour

heyyyyy good lookin! whaaaaaaaaatcha got cookin! due to the popular of the show “hoarders” one of several reallifepeering “inside the life of a hoarder, and i offering the following:

i.  1 hoarder artifacts and finds
ii.  hoarder pictures
iii. hoardering tour of house and home
iv. 4 meal with a hoarder out
v.  and about
vi. 5 tour and meal with hoarder

because of the public’s invested interest in hoarder, me, myself, a real life hoarder “is lookin to ca$$$$h in on a few buckaroos here and there to help myself stay afloat.

1 hoader artifacts and finds: you are allowed to visit (no tour) for less than 15 minutes and get to find an artifact to keep.

THE CATCH IS: i dont like to let me stuff go, so you will have to convince me that you deserve it. i am hoping that besides the fun of your own prize, i might be able to get closer to the idea of parting with some of my belongings

○ 2 i will send you pictures of my residence
○ 3 a visit, no longer than 2 hrs, of my home
○ 4 meal out

and about the town so you can see what i look like functioning/able, how my hoardering affects those i see and what i do and hwat i look like out and about

○ 5 tour and meal i
○ will cook
○ 6 grand pack/ everything

• it’s not ok to contact this poster with other services

Posting ID: 49416859541 Posted: 2013-09-07, 7:58PM EDT”

Excerpt From
Flagged and Removed by Darcie Wilder

[SFP]

Thank you. Just searched for Flagged and Removed by Darcie Wilder and intend reading it.

[SFP]

warty bliggens the toad


i met a toad
the other day by the name
of warty bliggens
he was sitting under
a toadstool
feeling contented
he explained that when the cosmos
was created
that toadstool was especially
planned for his personal
shelter from sun and rain
thought out and prepared for him

do not tell me
said warty bliggens
that there is not a purpose in
the universe
the thought is blasphemy
a little more
conversation revealed
that warty bliggens considers himself to be
the centre of the said
universe
the earth exists
to grow toadstools for him
to sit under
the sun to give him light
by day and the moon
and wheeling constellations
to make beautiful
the night for the sake of
warty bliggens

to what act of yours
do you impute
this interest on the part
of the creator
of the universe
i asked him
why is it that you
are so greatly favoured

ask rather
said warty bliggens
what the universe
has done to deserve me
if i were a
human being i would
not laugh
too complacently
at poor warty bliggens
for similar
absurdities
have only too often
lodged in the crinkles
of the human cerebrum
archy.

[SFP]

'Back when my old man was on the scene the Spice of Life wasn’t a happening place for jazz. It was, according to him, strictly for geezers in roll-necked sweaters and goatees reading poetry and listening to folk music. Bob Dylan played there a couple of times in the 1960s and so did Mick Jagger. But none of that meant anything to my dad, who always said that rock and roll was all right for those who needed help following a beat.'

(Rivers of London 02) Moon Over Soho (Ben Aaronovitch)

[SFP]

“she knows that the content of her thoughts consists entirely of what she’s read, heard, spoken, dreamt, and thought about what she’s read, heard, spoken, and dreamt. she knows that thought is not something privileged, autonomous, originative, and that the formulation “cogito ergo sum” is, to say the least, inaccurate. she knows too that her notion of “concrete experience” is an idealized, fictional site where contradictions can be resolved, “personhood” demonstrated and desire fulfilled forever. yet all the same the magical, seductive, narrative properties of “yes i was talking…” draw her with an inevitability that makes her slightly dizzy. she stands trembling between fascination and skepticism. she moves obstinately between the two.” – from “Looking Myself In the Mouth” by Yvonne Rainer

[SFP]

LISTEN TO THE MUSTN'TS

Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child.
Listen to the DON'TS
Listen to the SHOULDN'TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me—
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.

From - 'Where the Sidewalk Ends'
the poems and drawings of Shel Silverstein

SURVIVOR’S TIP:

What not to say to someone who is suffering:

• This is God’s will for your life.
• God will only give you what you can handle.
• You need to pray more.
• You must be sinning.
• You need to stop living in the past.
• Everything happens for a reason!
• Choose hope!

Excerpt From
A Serial Killer’s Daughter: My Story of Faith, Love, and Overcoming by Kerri Rawson

Look for the Hidden Blessings of Difficult Situations.
==========

The Simple Joy of Living from a Grateful Heart If you look to others for fulfillment, you will never truly be fulfilled. If your happiness depends on money, you will never be happy with yourself. Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.
==========

Gratitude creates happiness because it makes us feel full, complete; gratitude is the realization that we have everything we need, at least in this moment.
==========

The Gifts of Gratitude Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion to clarity. . . . Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.
==========

Excerpt From
Attitudes of Gratitude: How to Give and Receive Joy Every Day of your Life by M. J. Ryan & Mark Nepo

[SFP]

“It’s unhealthy to be happy all the time. It burns itself out. I don’t wanna burn my happiness out.”
“Isn’t it unhealthy to be miserable all the time?”
You’d know, Kill-Notch. “It’s an excellent fall-back position from which to regroup. Misery never burns itself out. Misery is quiet and muddy. There's depth, so you can wallow in it. At your lowest, you have no risk of crashing to the ground. There’s no doom to worry about, you’re already there! Happiness is floating up high on wisps. Happiness is dangerous and fleeting. Misery is solid and unlimited; it’s self-sustaining, piling up on itself. It’s the best value for your money, when you think about it.”
“You’re a bright spark today.”
“I am. But you think I’m gloomy. That’s where you’re wrong.”

(Marnie Baranuik 04) Wrath & Bones by A.J. Aalto

[SFP]

(Skulduggery Pleasant 08) Last Stand of Dead Men (Derek Landy)

He left her for a moment, came back with a long bag. From this he drew her gauntlet – black like his own – and held it out while she slipped her left arm through. Once in place, the fastenings tightened till it was snug but not uncomfortable. She flexed her arm, testing the hinge. It moved with her, like a second skin. “Do I get a sword?” she asked. “No,” he said, “but I did get you this.” He reached into the bag, and took out a stick. She looked at it. “What?” “Did you really think I’d forgotten my promise to get you a stick for Christmas?” “It’s not Christmas.” “Happy birthday.” She took it from him. It was some kind of dark wood, a little over an inch thick and hexagonal in shape, with symbols carved into it. It was oddly cold in her hand. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” Skulduggery said. “It’s a stick.” “It’s a special stick.” “It’s a stick.” “Well, yes, but it is, as I say, a special stick. The sharpest Cleaver blade couldn’t cut through this. Probably. I’ve trained you in stick-fighting. Tanith trained you in staff-fighting. All you have to do to turn the stick into a stun baton is press your thumb against this symbol here.” He showed her, and she pressed, and the stick remained a stick. “Hmm,” said Skulduggery. “It’s broken,” Valkyrie said. “It does appear to be not working.” “You got me a broken stick for my birthday.” “A broken stick is still a stick.” “Which brings us back to the fact that you got me a stick for my birthday. I want a sword.” “You don’t want a sword. Swords are sharp. Especially these swords. You’d lose a finger on these swords. There’d be no chance of you losing a finger on that stick. It’s not sharp, for one thing. It doesn’t work, for another. It’s perfectly safe.” “I don’t want a perfectly safe weapon. I want a dangerous weapon that hurts people.” He took the stick from her, rapped it against her head. She howled and he nodded. “See? It hurts people.” She grabbed it off him, smacked it against his skull. “Ow,” he said. “Not so funny now, is it?” “Of course not. It’s only funny when it happens to other people. I’d have thought that was obvious.”

[SFP]

(Marnie Baranuik 04) Wrath & Bones by A.J. Aalto

“It’s unhealthy to be happy all the time. It burns itself out. I don’t wanna burn my happiness out.”
“Isn’t it unhealthy to be miserable all the time?”
You’d know, Kill-Notch. “It’s an excellent fall-back position from which to regroup. Misery never burns itself out. Misery is quiet and muddy. There's depth, so you can wallow in it. At your lowest, you have no risk of crashing to the ground. There’s no doom to worry about, you’re already there! Happiness is floating up high on wisps. Happiness is dangerous and fleeting. Misery is solid and unlimited; it’s self-sustaining, piling up on itself. It’s the best value for your money, when you think about it.”
“You’re a bright spark today.”
“I am. But you think I’m gloomy. That’s where you’re wrong.”
… “On a completely unrelated note: I am revelling in my misery,” I said. “No one can take it from me. It’s mine.”