Adam@Home by Rob Harrell for April 21, 2010
Transcript:
Laura: Do you think it could really be English-lit thugs? Adam: I've got my thesaurus, just in case. Who's there? Voice: 'Tis destiny! Adam: That sounded sorta academic. Laura: Ask another question. Adam: Who won the superbowl this year? Voice: We do not squander our lives with such pedestrian diversions. Laura: The legends are true!
comYics over 14 years ago
Open thee door, or we will be encouraged to kick thee door down.
YatInExile over 14 years ago
Oh, now that the Saints have won the Super Bowl, it’s a “pedestrian diversion”???
MisngNOLA over 14 years ago
Only for the educated among us, jmd. We get to pick last!!!! Woohoo!!!
cdward over 14 years ago
I wonder if one of those English-Lit thugs is English Teacher. …
dante.deangelo over 14 years ago
I LOVE this storyline. What are the legends laura refers to?
gobblingup Premium Member over 14 years ago
Wouldn’t they just stay to correct his grammar?
benbrilling over 14 years ago
Bad grammar makes me (sic)
fritzoid Premium Member over 14 years ago
“Who’s there?” “Nay, answer me! Stand and unfold yourself!” – Hamlet (opening lines)
Or, if you prefer, from the Scottish play: Here’s a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of Hell Gate, he should have old turning the key. (Knock.) Knock, knock, knock! Who’s there, i’ the name of Beelzebub? Here’s a farmer, that hang’d himself on th’ expectation of plenty. Come in time! Have napkins enow about you; here you’ll sweat for’t. (Knock.) Knock, knock! Who’s there, in the other devil’s name? Faith, here’s an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale, who committed treason enough for God’s sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven. O, come in, equivocator. (Knock.) Knock, knock, knock! Who’s there? Faith here’s an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose. (Knock.) Knock, knock! Never at quiet! What are you? But this place is too cold for hell. I’ll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. (Knock.) Anon, anon!