The Insane Asylum II

You're saying that if I run off and pick up a philosophy of language book to understand Percy better, I'm likely to induce a long-term anxiety disorder?

You can laugh at this, but before I read that Percy book, I didn't really know semiotics was a real thing, and so I was trying to figure out through the semiotics section whether Percy was talking about a real discipline or just being sarcastic....
 
You could have looked it up on wikipedia! Or asked someone!

Speaking of which, should I make it my new year's resolution to not google things anymore? I think other people might feel honored if I trusted them to know things. They could also block me on all social devices by Jan 3rd...
 
*glares* I like my reading to be away from screens, thankyouverymuch, and googling semiotics would totally have spoiled that.

But you're welcome to trust me, and not google things, if you like.
 
But... When you're reading and you happen upon something you don't know, how can you just go on with life without finding out the answer first?

My brain is currently blocked by the question what the "phylactic" in "anaphylactic" stands for. If you can tell me that, I will make daily libations to you. Or maybe just say thank you kindly.
 
Happily. So what's your home address? If you hesitate to publish it on the internet, you could alternatively have it engraved on a cannonball and send it to me. Of course after noting the address down, I will return the cannonball to you. I'm not a thief. But I can't tell you precisely when the cannonball will... arrive. It might be next week, or month, or on your birthday, or while you're fixing the kitchen cupboard (seriously, when are you going to fix that?). Mail service is so unreliable these days. I think this is the creepiest thing I've ever posted. I do apologize.
 
The house is in pretty bad shape already, but I'm concerned that you won't package the libations correctly, so I've changed my mind. I just want money. And you can send it electronically.
 
You started a sentence with a coordinating conjunction, so the deal is off. Anyway, when have I not packaged libations correctly? The answer is never, so let's not ask how many libations I have packaged altogether, and let's talk some more about coffee. Is decaffeinated coffee also the nectar of the gods?
 
But if Samuel Johnson can start sentences with coordinating conjunctions, then so can I. And of course decaffeinated coffee is also the nectar of the gods. And I still want the money sent electronically, I don't trust you with libations any more.
 
But if Samuel Johnson can start sentences with coordinating conjunctions, then so can I.

Samuel Johnson started sentences with coordinating conjunctions, and now he's dead.

Glenbeggedmetobutcherhername said:
And I still want the money sent electronically, I don't trust you with libations any more.

You're probably dead by now, so I'll hold off on the libations until it becomes clear whether or not you're going to recover from those last three sentences. Right now, the only hope I see for your survival is in your diligent consumption of god-producing nectar.
 
So I'm totally fine. And I still expect my libation money. And more of it, now that you have been caught playing around with my name and thinking happy thoughts about my death.
 
Happy thoughts? You must not have read the words "hope for your survival". Expecting people to wish for your demise may become a self-fulfilling prohecy, Glenbrummbär - especially if those people are world-class impalers, who are remarkably good-natured and patient, but still human and at the end of a long week, less patient than usual.
 
You don't seem very disturbed by the thought. And yes, you are definitely a patient. I don't know about good-natured.
 
So now you can quit lecturing me on grammar and take me to the emergency room. Thanks a lot.

No, I'm not pulling that pointer out myself. The last thing I need to start bleeding like a stuck pig.
 
*gritting teeth* To go to the emergency room. And here, you can keep your tinsel and balloons. They're reddish now. You're welcome.
 
*points pig at Freckles* This thing better be going to the hospital, or you will be hit by 100 pounds of squealing animal.
 
The phrase is "bleeding like a pig", Glen. There's no actual pig. Where did you get that anyway and why can you hold 100 pounds with your outstretched arm while severely weakened by bloodloss? Too many things that don't add up. Are you sure you're not just holding a metaphor?
 
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