To cheer us up, the memes thread

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[Cluless]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

“So tell us, where do you see yourself in September?”

 

[missy]

romeo: But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
’Tis not the yondest window I have seen;
In truth, I fear, ’tis not quite yond enough.
The distance, by my reckoning, is fine,
Being thrice the span of my outstretchèd arm;
The real problem here is one of height,
With me down here and her up there and all—
It is my lady, O, it is my love!
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
I actually prefer that she keep shtum,
Because, though I am loth to criticize
This maid that o’ershines the envious moon
(Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That Juliet be far more fair than she),
The silly dope came out without a mask.
Were she to sneeze or, worse still, blow her nose,
Whose tiny tilt and rare perfection ne’er
Shall beg the rhinoplast’rer’s careful art,
I might lie just inside her mucal range.
By Cupid was this sacred law begot:
Thy love is deepest when thou lov’st not snot.
(Steps back)
That’s better. Ah, my sweet! Her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek! (Pause) Not literally.

juliet: O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?

romeo: Long story. My old man was keen on Duane,
But Mom liked Rocco, ’cause it sounded tough:
Rocky Montague, right? In the end,
They compromised, so Romeo it was.

juliet: What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.

romeo: ’Tis true, and yet is smelling anything
A good idea, when e’en the gods themselves,
Obeying guidelines, choose to chicken out
When bending low to take a mortal sniff?

juliet: How cam’st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb.

romeo: With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls;
For stony limits cannot hold love out.
Also, there are arrows, freshly daubed,
That show the aëreal climber where to go,
Along a one-way route, in case you meet
Another suitor keen to abseil down.

juliet: By whose direction found’st thou out this place?

romeo: By love, that first did prompt me to inquire;
And then—the traffic being as sparse as hairs
Upon a boyish chin—by Uber. Lovely guy,
Who swore that every inch was sanitiz’d.
I gell’d my palms before I buckl’d up.

juliet: Thou know’st the mask of night is on my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.
Fain would I dwell on form. Fain, fain deny
What I have spoke—

romeo: All right, I get the fains.
But when you say the mask of night, is that
An actual mask, or that weird clayey thing
With which the Duke of L’Oréal doth add
A glow of nourishment to visages
Already infant-soft? I’faith, my love,
To show thyself upon a balcony
Sans mask is sure to contravene the law.

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]

 

[missy]