Error 404.
Are you sure that web-page actually exists? Because I sure as hell can't find it.
But here's some spare parts to put a new page together.
progress has achieved wonderful things, too. Paving. Asphalt. Smog. Car alarms that wake you up in the middle of the fucking night. Carcinogenic food. The Exxon Valdez. That stereo in the apartment upstairs. Hydrogen bombs. Hormone-injected meat. Artificial coloring. Alarm clocks (and a society so dependent on measured time that we need alarm clocks). Television, and a society that has replaced "How can we improve the human condition?" with "Hey, did'ja see the Simpsons last night? Huh huh". An Internet where people like us can waste away their free time instead of going out and having a life. Yeah! Progress! I love it! Get me the genetic splicing kit! I want to make a new kind of trout!
we can do this movie the way Bakshi should have done it. IMHO, however, I can't see Minnie as Galadriel. The tall, beautiful Elven queen portrayed by some oversize Disney rodent? Some hormone-injected rat? I think not. Noooo, the beauty and wisdom of Galadriel and Celeborn must come through. I'd suggest Boris and Natasha for the parts. Maybe Minnie can play Arwen. Which suggests Mr. Peabody for Gandalf: he has both the wisdom and the attitude for the part. It's a bit of a departure from traditional casting, but I'd be sorely tempted to cast a woman as Saruman: Evil-lyn, from "He-Man and the Masters of the Universe". A powerful magician turned to evil, with a voice of silken iron
Lord blessed the latter part of Job's life more than the first. He had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen, and a thousand donkeys. And he also had several sons and three daughters. The first daughter was named Dove, the second Cinnamon and the third Eyeshadow Kit. Nowhere in all the land were there found women as beautiful as
He grabbed Steinfrau's nose. There was nothing for it now; he had to hang on, hang on for dear life, or else the mad German would be gone and there would be no way to prove his innocence. Steinfrau tried to roll up the window of the moving cab, but with a massive lunge he managed to jam his free hand in and around the crank; the pressure on his arm was terrible, but the window stopped in mid-rise, and the extra handgrip helped him hang on as the cab increased its speed. They were heading toward Midtown. There was a chance, a bare chance; if he could hook his ankle around the fence at the 59th Street sidewalk café he might be able to slow them down. But would he be able to? People were screaming, throwing things; there were angry shouts from theatregoers and commuters, traffic cops pointed at him and swore. Steinfrau seemed to be egging them on, damn him.
ink all over the floor, ink black in the night inky inky ink