Life. Death. And many things in between.
"They couldn't have been spies," said Jessie Gugig. "Look what she did with the hydrangeas."
Or it's kind of like Desperate Housewives only with more secret codes.
When I was a kid I used to think that the Hyde Ranger was a mate of the Lone Ranger who came from Hyde. Anyone doing stuff with hyderangeas can't be a spy, they must be a reincarnation of one of my aunties.Off the topic - did one of you guys do a post that indicated that Slavov Zizek did masterclasses you have to pay for?
What _did_ she do with the hydrangeas?Mike (trying to become a Lacanian Marxist): To join the Zizek masterclass (TM) you need to be an underwear model. Are you?
They all used to be obsessed with the flaming things. The hydrangea seemed to be the only plant that could grow in the corner of Manchester I grew up in - might have been the slag that poisoned the soil.The day I want to be a Lacanian Marxist is the day you can take me to the knackers' yard. Didn't Lacan used to charge by the hour, and then skip out of his sessions after five minutes to go for a coffee and a fag in the local zinc?
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