like, is any of this for real? or not?

Be real Adrian who do you think you’re fooling

Anne Carson (2009)

Arthur S. Way (1898)

George Theodoridis (2010)

Ian C. Johnston (2010)

E.P. Coleridge (1910)

Theodore Alois Buckley (1892)

John Peck, Frank Nisetich (1995)

R. Potter (1906)

M. L. West (1987)

William Arrowsmith (1958)

Philip Vellacott (1972)

Michael Wodhull (1782)

Kenneth McLeish (1997)

David Kovacs (2002)

Andrew Wilson (1993)

I’ll take care of you. It’s rotten work. Not to me. Not if it’s you.

Nay, thy weakness I will tend. Loathly task to touch the sick! Ah, not to me for thee, O friend.

I’ll look after you if that happens. It would be horrible for you, my friend. No, not for me it won’t be.

But I’ll take care of you. It’s unpleasant looking after someone sick. Not to me. Not when I’m looking after you.

But I will take care of you. It is annoying to have to touch a sick man. Not to me, when it is you.

But I will take care of thee. It is a difficult and dangerous task to touch a man thus disordered. Not for me to touch thee.

But I’ll be right beside you. It’s difficult, touching a sick man. Not for me, with you.

My care shall watch around thee. To attend a man thus disordered, to guard, to hold him, is an unpleasing office. But for thee delightful to my love.

But I’ll be looking after you. It’s unpleasant to be in contact with a sick man. Not with you, for me.

Have no fear. You are in my hands. Madmen are hard to handle. I will manage.

Then I’ll look after you. When my sickness comes, to touch me is revolting. Not to me.

On my fostering care rely. Loathsome it is to handle the diseas’d. Not so to me, while you I tend.

I’ll see to you. It’s horrible. I’ll do it.

Well, I will take care of you. It is disgusting to touch a sick man. Not for me to touch you.

I’ll look after you. Getting close during an attack can be dangerous. Not for me, when it’s you.

When I turned 17, we ordered a cake at the grocery store for my party, as we’d done many times before. If you wanted something written on the cake you’d write it into a section of the order form. We requested, very simply, “Happy Birthday Courtney”. When we went to pick it up the day of the party, this is what we got.

The bakery employees had absolutely no explanation for this. The order form, attached to the box, very clearly did not contain any of those extra names. Whomever had done the writing was no longer in, so there was no one to ask how this had happened. The fact that the name ‘Juan’ is misspelled bewilders me to this day. (I’ve never seen ‘Miley’ without the E, either, but it’s believable that someone might spell it that way.) Did this cake slip in from an alternate universe where I’m one quarter of a set of Hispanic quadruplets? Dyslexic Hispanic quadruplets, maybe?

This cake became the focal point of my party. At least two of my friends regularly called me ‘Courtney Mily Jaun Pablo’ for years to come. My siblings and I still reference it sometimes, eleven years later. It is probably the funniest thing ever to occur at any birthday celebration of my life, and may well remain so for the rest of my days.

No One Like You

now, it took us a while to realise it meant "(there is) no one like you". at first, we all parsed it as a botched "no one like(s) you"

-Witches Abroad