Saturday, December 06, 2003
The joys of plastic wrapping... and other nonsense
One of the greatest joys in life is to tenderly savour a new, well-wrapped and well-pressed (and expensive, of course, otherwise why go to all that trouble?) book, running the back of your hands (again... and again) over the cool, flawlessly smooth plastic surface, reverently teasing open the delicate pages, gently exploring the contents in the comfortable knowledge that the act of reading (which
could very well be barbaric and violent) would not damage the book's perfection. Even then, clean and dry hands are a must. You wouldn't want to desecrate your darling with greasy fingerprints, would you? That would ruin the pure sensuality of it.
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I freaked people out with it in secondary school, and now (for lack for better things to do) I shall try it again. Does anyone know the full lyrics of 'My Darling Clementine'? Yes, that happy little song taught to unsuspecting kids who then cheerfully sing along at campfires? If not, I'm here to enlighten. Enjoy -
In a cavern, In a canyon,
Excavating for a mine,
Dwelt a miner forty-niner,
And his daughter Clementine.
Chorus:
Oh my darling, Oh my darling,
Oh my darling Clementine,
You are lost and gone forever,
Dreadful sorry Clementine.
Light she was and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine;
Herring boxes, without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.
Drove she ducklings to the water,
Every morning just at nine;
Hit her foot against a splinter,
Fell into the foaming brine.
Ruby lips above the water,
Blowing bubbles, soft and fine;
But Alas! I was no swimmer,
So I lost my Clementine.
When the miner forty-niner,
Soon began to peak and pine,
Thought he oughter "jine" his daughter,
Now he's with his Clementine.
In a corner of the churchyard,
Where the myrtle boughs entwine,
Grow the roses in their poses,
Fertilized by Clementine.
In my dreams she still doth haunt me,
Robed in garments soaked in brine.
Though in life I used to hug her,
Now she's dead, I'll draw the line.
How I missed her, how I missed her
How I missed my Clementine.
So I kissed her little sister,
And forgot my Clementine.
... macabre, isn't it?
words were spilled on Saturday, December 06, 2003