My Little Favorite Life-Shape
Even if the things wormy are probably my little favorite life-shape, I must say that I am a small piece in conflict on having to be so personally and unequivocal person in charge of its death. I have passed to a sure time this morning that investigated more human alternatives, and it looks like that the "manual harvesting manually" is really the best option, if nondesire to douse my chemical agent garden. Which I do not do it. And at least I schnippele it not into pieces, as some gardeners are recommended. In any case, it comes down to the lives without aim or the foxgloves. The lives without aim live; the dice of the foxgloves. The dice of the lives without aim; the foxgloves they live that is--if it is not too much late. Those foxgloves they are for nothing good.
Isn’t that charming? Does it sound vaguely familiar? The above paragraph is the result of taking a paragraph* from a previous entry and feeding it into the Google translator** and then back again, e.g., start with English to Italian and then take the Italian translation and put it back into English, or rather Manglish. Hours of fun!
The above is actually an amalgam of Italian, Spanish, and German translations, created in order to deliver maximum hilarity. I did, however, have a hard time choosing between the Italian and the German versions for the last couple of sentences. Here’s the German alternative:
Anyway it comes down to the continuous screws or to that foxgloves. The continuous screws live; foxgloveswuerfel. The continuous screw cube; those foxgloves live -- that is, if it is not too late.
How does worms translate to continuous screws, I’d like to know?
Why all the silliness and no real blog entry? I am conserving my cerebral resources, so that I will be able to write about a dozen tax checks*** tonight and make sure I get them in the right envelopes. And not (like last year) somehow forget to mail off my contributions to my IRA and my other retirement plan. One of the most nightmarish mistakes I've ever made!
*Here’s the original paragraph:
Even though wormy things are probably my least favorite life-form, I have to say that I am a bit conflicted about having to be so personally and unequivocally responsible for their demise. I spent some time this morning researching more humane alternatives, and it seems that “handpicking” is really the best option, unless I want to douse my garden with toxic chemicals. Which I don’t. And at least I’m not snipping the worms into pieces, as some gardeners recommend. Anyway, it comes down to the worms or the foxgloves. The worms live; the foxgloves die. The worms die; the foxgloves live—that is, if it’s not too late. The foxgloves are not at all well.
**I haven't done this in years. I don't know what made it occur to me to to try it again. I must have been desperately bored this afternoon.
***Thanks to being self-employed and living in a place where there are various municipal and county taxes to be paid.
Isn’t that charming? Does it sound vaguely familiar? The above paragraph is the result of taking a paragraph* from a previous entry and feeding it into the Google translator** and then back again, e.g., start with English to Italian and then take the Italian translation and put it back into English, or rather Manglish. Hours of fun!
The above is actually an amalgam of Italian, Spanish, and German translations, created in order to deliver maximum hilarity. I did, however, have a hard time choosing between the Italian and the German versions for the last couple of sentences. Here’s the German alternative:
Anyway it comes down to the continuous screws or to that foxgloves. The continuous screws live; foxgloveswuerfel. The continuous screw cube; those foxgloves live -- that is, if it is not too late.
How does worms translate to continuous screws, I’d like to know?
Why all the silliness and no real blog entry? I am conserving my cerebral resources, so that I will be able to write about a dozen tax checks*** tonight and make sure I get them in the right envelopes. And not (like last year) somehow forget to mail off my contributions to my IRA and my other retirement plan. One of the most nightmarish mistakes I've ever made!
*Here’s the original paragraph:
Even though wormy things are probably my least favorite life-form, I have to say that I am a bit conflicted about having to be so personally and unequivocally responsible for their demise. I spent some time this morning researching more humane alternatives, and it seems that “handpicking” is really the best option, unless I want to douse my garden with toxic chemicals. Which I don’t. And at least I’m not snipping the worms into pieces, as some gardeners recommend. Anyway, it comes down to the worms or the foxgloves. The worms live; the foxgloves die. The worms die; the foxgloves live—that is, if it’s not too late. The foxgloves are not at all well.
**I haven't done this in years. I don't know what made it occur to me to to try it again. I must have been desperately bored this afternoon.
***Thanks to being self-employed and living in a place where there are various municipal and county taxes to be paid.
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