nessahead.com » funny http://www.nessahead.com shameless self-promotion since 1996 Thu, 27 Oct 2011 18:12:38 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.1 Bugged Out http://www.nessahead.com/2011/08/31/bugged-out/ http://www.nessahead.com/2011/08/31/bugged-out/#comments Wed, 31 Aug 2011 18:01:02 +0000 nessahead http://www.nessahead.com/?p=82 Continue reading →]]> I got home from my trip around 10pm and walked up to my dark porch. As I set down my luggage and took out my keys I felt a spider web on my arm. Calmly brushed it away (look how grown-up I am now!), looked down and saw a golden, wriggling mass of legs and body by my foot. Went into full-on freak-out mode: jazz hands up, bounding down the porch, and all the gibbering screams of terror poured out of my wildly shaking head. My neighbor thought I was being murdered! There was so much adrenaline in my system I couldn’t calm down for 20 minutes. And I knew that garden spider had been weaving webs last week.

I’ll be leaving the porch light on and my spider-broom on the steps from now until Fall.

]]> http://www.nessahead.com/2011/08/31/bugged-out/feed/ 0 Like shit through a duck http://www.nessahead.com/2011/07/27/like-shit-through-a-duck/ http://www.nessahead.com/2011/07/27/like-shit-through-a-duck/#comments Wed, 27 Jul 2011 23:46:14 +0000 nessahead http://www.nessahead.com/?p=81 Today, my English professor used the expression, “Like shit through a duck.” In response to the nervous titters he said, with a smile, “I have an expansive vocabulary and I’m going to use every fucking bit of it!”

]]> http://www.nessahead.com/2011/07/27/like-shit-through-a-duck/feed/ 0 The Passion of the Whitman http://www.nessahead.com/2011/05/23/the-passion-of-the-whitman/ http://www.nessahead.com/2011/05/23/the-passion-of-the-whitman/#comments Tue, 24 May 2011 03:38:26 +0000 nessahead http://www.nessahead.com/?p=28 Continue reading →]]>

I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning.
How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn’d over upon me,
And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart,
And reach’d till you felt my beard, and reach’d till you held my feet.

– Walt Whitman, from #5, “Song of Myself,” Leaves of Grass

Whitman is talking about his soul in this passage, not a lover, and it is an excellent example of the blatant eroticism he applies to different aspects of human and American life.

During his introduction to Whitman, our professor told us about a graduate seminar he attended with a few other graduate students. They each had to present on one subject of the seminar and one (un)lucky female student drew Leaves of Grass. He remembered her name—it was something silly and innocent-sounding like Emily Bateman. She’d never encountered Whitman before and it must have swept her up. She breathlessly began her presentation with this memorable phrase: “Have you ever been fucked by a poem?!”

Oh, Emily Bateman.

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