alice

A possible indication that his career as a writer was appreciated came when Edward III granted Chaucer "a gallon of wine daily for the rest of his life" for some unspecified task.[28] This was an unusual grant, but given on a day of celebration, Saint George's Day, 1374, when artistic endeavours were traditionally rewarded, it is assumed to have been for another early poetic work. It is not known which, if any, of Chaucer's extant works prompted the reward, but the suggestion of him as a poet to a king places him as a precursor to later poets laureate. Chaucer continued to collect the liquid stipend until Richard II came to power, after which it was converted to a monetary grant on 18 April 1378.[28]

Me waiting at the start of the four-nations Teams call for Chaucer to join, but Chaucer is too wrecked to get on because the king has recognised the importance of getting all poet-civil servants hammered every day

the odds of me killing a plastic plant are low but not impossible

an excerpt from the intro to Mary Douglas' 'Purity and Danger: An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo' (1966): 'My other source of inspiration has been my husband. In matters of cleanness his threshold of tolerance is so much lower than my own that he more than anyone else has forced me into taking a stand on the relativity of dirt.'

new relationship goals just dropped: dissing husband's hygiene habits in my seminal anthropological monograph on dirt, pollution, and purity

It's fascinating how all the people who insist it's just a phase also insist on aggressively repressing and crushing that phase rather than just letting it play out.

a picture of a rained-on front square of trinity college dublin in the evening light

having a very I walk through walls / I float down the Liffey kind of day

have become academically obsessed with someone. almost finished a novel completely irrelevant to all the work i'm supposed to be doing solely because they wrote a paper on it that i want to read. i forgot how good/bad this is for me

I Keep Trying to Leave but the Sex Just Gets Better and Better Ali Shapiro This is not what the door's for—slamming you up against, opening your legs with my knee. And it isn't leaving, the thing I keep doing with my shoes still on, or in the car in the driveway in broad daylight after waving goodbye to your neighbors again. But my body's a bad dog, all dumb tongue and hunger, down on all fours again, tied up outside again, coming when called but then always refusing to stay. I know what I'm trying to say, but it isn't talking, the thing that I do with my mouth to your ear, even though we got the orifices right. To leave I would have to put clothes on, and they'd have to fit better than all of this skin. To leave I would have to know where to begin: like this, pressed up against the half-open window? Like this, with my foot on the gas? If seeing is believing then why isn't touching knowing for sure? I just want my nerves to do the work for me, I don't want to have to decide. There's blood in my hands for fight and blood in my legs for flight and nowhere a sign. Believe me, I'll leave if you just let me touch you again for the last last time.

Ahh, the Lancet, which took 12 years to retract the Wakefield rubbish that helped deliver us Kennedy.

Casio-First Again! with the New Combination Compact A Calculator, An Alarm Clock and A Lighter. CASIO QL-10

Look how far we have fallen

detecting a hint of 'there's an inherent humour in your northern accent so I will laugh at your perfectly reasonable and accurate comment' in some of this morning's coverage

:') my eyes have been opened

i mean, honestly, if this person picked up Joyce with zero prior knowledge, just attempting to raw-dog it, this isn't that upsetting

from my second-hand copy of Ulysses. the annotations stopped on page three

Macro photo of a brown stink bug in face view on a leaf, guarding a tightly-clustered bunch of eggs that are shaped and colored exactly like a full tray of dark beer with foam on top.

Finally, the bug is back with a round of the Guinness.

warmly welcome the return of the opportunity to step outside in Dublin without tights on

...still in my Donegal wool jumper, scarf, and buttoned-up jacket, but a win is a win

would anybody like to regulate my sex economy? 👉👈

Songs For Drella

saturday listenin open.spotify.com/album/4Nyu5z...

a 0.5 picture of a stickered laptop my lap (brown corduroy trousers, one black doc marten resting on my knee). there's a table to my left with the pornographer by mcgahern and a pair of blue headphones on it, and out the large floor-to-ceiling window is a view through the bare trees of campus – the greener end

coffee spilt on possessions ❌
can't source music to match my exact vibe ❌
walked into my professor heading in the opposite direction of his class ❌

john mcgahern ✅
view ✅

A bunny is hanging out with a bunch of potatoes on a hardwood floor.

“What’s up guys! My name’s Alexander, but my friends call me Fiver. You know, like in the book? My family just moved here from Des Moines because of Dad’s work. What kind of music do you like? I’m into hip hop. Get it? Hahaha! Mom says I’m the family comedian. Hello? Guys? Guys? Sprechen sie bunny?”

A drawing of male head wearing a hat with an arm and hand pointing at written text.

Imagine your documents were marked up for editing with this guy. Terrifying! MS.B.2.25 mss-cat.trin.cam.ac.uk/Manuscript/B...

#marginaliamonday
#medievalsky

rewatching peep show. remember when accidentally making friends with someone who shows themselves to be a raging fascist felt beyond of the realm of possibility, and how it was funny because it was such a wildly atypical, unfortunate, and therefore quintessentially mark corrigan thing

(only just opened the link on mobile and felt ill when I saw the formatting – view on desktop if possible so the lineation I pored over actually has the desired effect ❤️‍🩹)

thank you!!

AKATALĒPSIA ALICE WEATHERLEY - I was stuck to garden stones when you read to me

new poem out online with the Oxford Review of Books

felt when I wrote this I'd done something pretty different than my usual, slid into a more prosaic register, which was maybe the result of a little infusion of non-fiction. I liked the experiment! and I love octopuses

🌀

i think i should deactivate again for a bit cos i’m realising i’ve not been this overly emotional in like three years and while i have mainly been typing + deleting i feel like i had the right instinct in november deciding that now is not the time for me to have access to the Say Stuff Website

you did not see this kitty pull a glizzy heist

good morning

Our resolution?? More fish in 2026!!! #jackcrevalle #bluerunner #jack #school #fishfordays #traffic #newyearsresolution #coral #coralcitycamera #miami #portmiami #biscaynebay #coralcity

“Getting hurt makes a doctor a better doctor” he mutters and climbs out the open window.

happy birthday David Berman 🎈