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this got like 80% of the way to working but that's like 80% of a rocket launch working

DOCTOR: Yes, I should be go-- good LORD what is happening in here?

MAN: The great clown Pagliacci?

DOCTOR: The great clown Pagliacci. At this time of year. At this time of day in this part of the country. Localized ENTIRELY within my office?

MAN: Yes.

DOCTOR: May I see him?

MAN: but doctor

SOMEbody once asked me
To go see Pagliacci
To cure whatever's getting me down
Then I burst into tears despite laughter and the cheers
I am the famous traveling clown

sorry folks i used up all my thoughtful writing and good judgement on other shit today, we're goin' full free association

or when a pirate does it:

smee association

a blood-and-alcohol scented perfume called PhlebotoMist

I’ll have a nice relaxing day again one of these years

but doctor, actually, Pagliacci is the name of my creator

y'all hear that yanny was actually robert redford the whole time

[looking at my friend's boat that has was too many sails on it]

i like the glut of your jibs

My life and my work and my social sphere and my headspace are really thoroughly interconnected and intersecting in a way that makes it paradoxically very difficult to talk in either social or work contexts about how I'm feeling *about* such stuff when it's difficult.

I don't know how healthy or socially workable the half-measure of talking vaguely in social spaces about the isolation of *that* phenomenon is, but, y'know, it's Saturday and it's masto and to heck with it. It's weird, y'all.

when a language has two separate ways to address someone informally, that's a distinction without a deference

Joanie talks a big game about fibercraft, but she's all cat, no heddle

David Bowie, looking at a weirdly familiar cat: "you remind me of the Bub"

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