AdamSmith

Never having read one, I didn't. With one exception, actually: an oddity titled The Blue Guitar which I picked up in a used bookshop in New Haven eons ago that was about, of all things, a hypnotically idyllic (from the two characters' viewpoint) summer of sister-brother incest. (I have long since lost it and would love to find another copy, but the book seems to have vanished from existence.)

She was being formal.

That's how it's always attributed. But looking it up just now, this killjoy says no... http://www.slate.com/articles/life/drink/features/2013/martini_madness_tournament/sweet_16/dorothy_parker_martini_poem_why_the_attribution_is_spurious.html

Dorothy Parker!

A Drink With Something In It There is something about a Martini, A tingle remarkably pleasant; A yellow, a mellow Martini; I wish I had one at present. There is something about a Martini, Ere the dining and dancing begin, And to tell you the truth, It is not the vermouth— I think that perhaps it's the gin. There is something about an old-fashioned That kindles a cardiac glow; It is soothing and soft and impassioned As a lyric by Swinburne or Poe. There is something about an old-fashioned When dusk has enveloped the sky, And it may be the ice, Or the pineapple slice, But I strongly suspect it’s the rye. There is something about a mint julep. It is nectar imbibed in a dream, As fresh as the bud of the tulip, As cool as the bed of the stream. There is something about a mint julep, A fragrance beloved by the lucky. And perhaps it’s the tint Of the frost and the mint, But I think it was born in Kentucky. There is something they put in a highball That awakens the torpidest brain, That kindles a spark in the eyeball, Gliding singing through vein after vein. There is something they put in a highball Which you’ll notice one day, if you watch; And it may be the soda, But judged by the odor, I rather believe it’s the Scotch. Then here’s to the heartening wassail, Wherever good fellows are found; Be its master instead of its vassal, And order the glasses around. For there’s something they put in the wassail That prevents it from tasting like wicker; Since it’s not tapioca, Or mustard, or mocha, I’m forced to conclude it’s the liquor. Ogden Nash

Long before Monty Python, medieval scribes had a fixation on killer rabbits.

"The book you've just started reading is titled The Best Short Stories of Isaac Asimov. Now, you and I both know that in truth I ought to have called it The Pretty Good and Pretty Representative Short Stories of Isaac Asimov. But then you'd have been a lot less inclined to buy it. Right?" -- Isaac Asimov

@mike carey saying Moi in another thread led me to this...

...or maybe not!

inguaLay atinaLay uumsay!

In fact! A pig latin translator... http://www.wordplays.com/pig-latin

Ess-yay! (That's also a kind of Latin. )

I'll just hire one.

Bound to come in handy sometime...

http://i.imgur.com/nJ6v5.jpg

Of merely clinical interest, of course... http://hothunks-bubblebutts.tumblr.com/post/130712375314/alekzmx-justin-bieber-caught-naked-but-this

Every now and then somebody posts something good on LinkedIn...

http://stream1.gifsoup.com/view6/4745937/freud-reaction-o.gif