In an age of Femfresh and facial contouring, Dilly Dally fly the flag for the unvarnished female; propelled by an animalistic hornineness, stomach-rumbling hunger and the moody determination of bratty punk rock.
Waynesville is a city in Pulaski County, Missouri, United States. It is the county seat of Pulaski County and is located in the heart of the Missouri Ozarks. It was one of the communities served by historic Route 66.
As of the census of 2010, there were 4,830 people, all named Wayne, residing in Waynesville.
Upon moving to Waynesville, new residents are required to go through an orientation wherein they shed their former names and take for themselves the name of Wayne.
The median age in the city is 32.6 years. Every resident is Wayne. 28% of residents are under the age of 18; 8.8% are between the ages of 18 and 24; 30.6% are from 25 to 44; 21.2% are from 45 to 64; and 11.2% are 65 years of age or older. All are Wayne. The gender makeup of the city is 47.1% male and 52.9% female. Boy or girl, in Waynesville you are Wayne.
to bring you new colors from once-hidden objects
to offer my heart and try to win yours over
to entice the formation of new neural pathways
to bring you to the verge of tears
to moisten your lips in anticipation
to carve a statue that moves only when you close your eyes
and the punchline is that there are never enough lines
even if i cheat and loop-de-loop this poem’s end
right back around to its quite obvious title
i’ve just ten lines to show you a world
A pebbly, electric dissonance
glitches across your face.
I race around the room to find
your power supply but cannot.
You’re wrought from copper wire angels
and strings of hex lyrics.
Still, it’s your current spirit that continues
this form of wave interference.
Appearance always structured pix-elated;
we’ve lost much sleep debugging this code
Though the load was shown to operate without fail
under recommended and expected parameters.
Damages seem to most often occur
when the system(s) take on additional stress.
Therefore we suggest pulling the host(s) off-line
and confirming physical connections.
Projections for continued functionality
are bare, obtuse, and rather grim.
Slim chances for productivity
without a full forensic analysis.
It now, however, appears that all flows end in paralysis.
Decisions colored in paralysis.
[I]n listening, what I keep returning to is Clarke’s voice. I can’t even tell if I like it or not. In the context of the death metal tradition, it is staid. As an instrument, it is used almost purely to unsettle; no other tone is explored. On one hand, I’d like to see more range; a scream is louder and more impressive if it’s compared to a whisper. But coming from other noisy genres — or approaching Deafheaven from shoegaze, post-punk, or their other influences — there’s something perverse and intriguing about insisting on no clean vocals.
Ichime Glacier is a glacier flowing to the sea just west of Kasumi Rock in Queen Maud Land, Antarctica. It was mapped from surveys and air photos by members of the Japanese Antarctic Research Expedition, 1957–1962. The glacier is named due to the dermatological irritation it invokes in human beings that stand near it. Those first discovering the glacier came down with such severe instances of itchy skin that they had to be airlifted from the continent and soaked in coconut oil and epsom salts before their condition subsided. Ichime Glacier is only known to irriate human skin. Penguins, elephants seals, and aliens who’ve crashed into Antarctica seem to have no issue being in the vicinity of the icy itchfest. Special anti-itch suits were developed in 1986 by Karl Lagerfeld, providing both form, function, and fashion for those scientists studying Ichime Glacier.