From herrick@sunchem.chem.uga.edu Sat May 8 17:42:34 1999 Date: 6 Apr 1995 00:05:02 GMT From: "Robert D. Herrick" Newsgroups: alt.gothic Subject: Re: net.goth rejection In article <3lpt3j$i3f@news.acns.nwu.edu>, -Jen wrote: >I was wondering if you had that oh-so-lovely deathly redolence >about you. Oh. That's really different. Well, yes, I guess I do exhibit a bit of an odor. What do you want when you're 400 yrs. old? Is this a big problem? I do carry around a can of air deodorant--pine scented. When others are around me, I squirt a little bit o' that in the air and it smells like a corpse rotting in the wood. For some people, that could be a turn-on... not many people, I guess... ><-Jen falls to the floor laughing> tears run down her face marring her cheeks with terrible mascara >lines> So this is a 'no,' isn't it? Too bad. I could recite you my newest poem: "Upon Harriet's Breasts." I have a thing for writing about breasts, you know. It keeps me feeling young (which gets harder and harder each day--kind of like my weeping wounds, now that I think about it). > >I can't stop laughing long enough to reply: "occasional lump of >skin falling in my lap?" Hey, look, you want to make fun of rotting, go ahead. I think that it adds a certain...mystery...to my dates. They always wonder: what will fall off next? >Robert, you are truly saturnine! :) Wait, are you saying that I have rings of dust around me? I suppose that could construed as, well, you know...true, but it's tough to keep my clothes looking sharp after so long. Have you ever worn underwear for 400 years? They get a little funky pretty soon. I can't tell if this is a rejection or not. If so, I guess it fits with the name of the thread. I can't say that I'm surprised. Many women (and a lot of men, too) tend to throw me away when they find out that I reek of the tomb. Ah, the fleeting pleasures of youth: life, love...limbs. Did I mention that I have a fake leg? It was chewed up by a rat a while back... Robert Herrick Once again, dejected and feeling poetic... I wish I had two working legs. Maybe a woman would take me to bed. They always run when my arm falls off, And my dusty drawers just make them cough. But one taste of my love and squeal and shout, At least, until my left eye falls out. RH--4/5/95