Tavie
dave foley mark mckinney e.mail
archive
blogs i like:
amy
andrew
carl
barb cooking blog
boing boing
caroline
cartoon brew
chris
cityroom
consumerist
erin
gena/ deadly stealth frogs
gothamist
jim hill
kids in the hall lj
kithblog
matt k
mike t
nathan
post secret
rynn
sarah
sarah c
sean
tea rose
toby
tom
webcomics i read:
american elf
american stickman
elfquest
lolcats!
masque of the red death
the perry bible fellowship
toothpaste for dinner
ultrajoebot
xkcd
Other places to find me:
me on the tumblr
me on the flickr
me on the formspring
me on the twitter
me on the ravelry
me on the myspace
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my 'currently-reading' shelf:
i want:
wish list
i've read:
goodreads list
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Tuesday, December 04, 2001
The fingers know not what they numbly beat
Upon these meekly yielding plastic drums
Whose faint tattoos announce the dull defeat
Of all but slavish thoughts to weekly sums.
The fingers now know naught but to obey
And only seek their ill-begotten prize,
Ignoring every brief urge to betray
The orchestrator of her own demise:
The mind which had a rhythm once its own
Now instrument of data-entry drone.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:33 PM | shower me with attention
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