our current bird seems to love microwave beeping sounds

I’ve never known a bird that showed any sign of caring whether you said “he” or “she,” but I have certainly known birds that had strong reactions to sounds. The parrot we used to have would made a bizarre, indescribable screeching noise any time he heard the metal clicking sounds made by a nail clipper. I don’t know if it was a sound of anger, panic or joy. Maybe “nail-clipper-click” was his preferred pronoun. We’ll never know.

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the best are the days when literary and physical diarrhea co-occur, so you have a good excuse to keep running to the bathroom to type

In German literature class in college, my professor showed us a poem from I-don’t-know-how-long-ago, which contained the lines “Nachtstuhlchen meiner Ruh, der Poesie Klystier.” “(You are) the chamberpot of my peace, and the enema of my poetry.” I am not sure if this guy’s comparison of his poetry to poop was clueless or remarkably self-aware.

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To be fair, many of the kids featured on those lists really don't seem to have known what they were doing. But there are definitely some where I feel they ought to get public recognition for it.

I mean, imagine if you said something really clever on an assignment as a kid, and then tried to use it in another work later in life, but your publisher said, “No, I won’t publish this, you clearly stole it from this viral internet clickbait list of funny schoolkid homework assignments.” And your name’s been cut out of the picture in the list so you’ll never be able to prove your authorship, and you’ll curse your teacher till the day you die.

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