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autoirishlitdiscourses · 3 years

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Discourse of Saturday, 03 April 2021

Very well done. Both of these are impressive moves. You might note that I should say at this point and think carefully about the text s involved as closely integrated into the phrase is not unusual not to say I don't round up, you can keep notes on usage. That being said, you've done so, so you need to happen differently for this. The Stare's Nest by My Window discussion of Vladimir's speech, 33ff. If you are not allowed to pass them out, when absolutely everything except the final exam; b she and her husband have perhaps grown apart, and your presence in front of the paper in on time. Speaking of your discussion in a way that's supportable; I think that articulating your criteria for determining what the fellow is thinking, a very good paper that takes the safe road too much to obscure many important qualities of the text itself will, I misspelled it. Does that help? You've written quite a long time, despite the occasional typographical error or possessive formation problem though your thesis statement takes the caveats of the horror of the resources you consulted while doing that work. I will offer you to reschedule a 27 November. Yes you will turn in for you. But taking it to the ER kept you from reciting, obligates you to guess what's going on here that was fair to call on you first, let me know if you describe what needs to be more successful would be a productive relationship to sexuality that I may overlook it if possible, and would then be reciting, anyway. On Raglan Road, which is already an impressive logical and narrative structure, and not because you had a lot of things well. As far as it turns out that you have a few people who wind up with Joyce's appropriation and recasting of classical mythology Ulysses in a lot of things well here, and we will have consulted any works that you're not willing to do this late in the stream of consciousness in the context of your claims. O'Hanlon—You've presented a good selection, in South Hall 1415.

I'm happy to provide the largest overall benefit to introduce in advance will help you assess your own writing would pay off for you to do to do whatever he tells me to make your paper most needs to be avoiding picking too many texts by Yeats we talked about in lecture tomorrow and offline for several hours tonight. I think that you are performing—for instance. I think that you could get a thorough, fresh re-ran them. Auden, September 1913. You currently have a close-reading individual passages: In addition to displaying all of the better ways to provide the largest overall benefit to the MLA requires parenthetical citations in-depth manner and provided a good discussion by email except to respond to a specific format the question of how successful your paper would have helped here would have been to Ireland and his borderline manic feelings while making his rounds quite effectively, and well tied to the end of your ideas, not writing a paper of eight full pages/. 5 p. Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail the John Synge Vocabulary Quiz from October 17, Pokornowski's midterm review session, why is he willing to proctor a separate entry on your works cited and use introductory and closing phrases to glance back at a different direction. You also went above and beyond the interpretations articulated in the text that you had planned to cover here would be to have a perceptive observation about the text, and incur the no-show penalty and need you to 97%. But you really have done some solid work here in many ways. What you're actually using it as-is still in range for you. If it falls flat, try moving on to point toward some important things to say, Leopold Bloom or Francie Brady in this way. Which is to say. You did a solid understanding of the final exam and when will it be produced? Students who read actively and who take a more fluid, and I haven't yet fully thought around what your priorities are if you don't run out of your analysis, but if you'd like, because that makes a logico-narrative and is entirely understandable, but that's unreasonable to expect from all students, too.

Playboy may be that this is not caught up on reading will probably drag you down for McCabe. Hi! Note that it is that each of you; I like, etc. You take on the final metaphorically speaking, but an A, counting absolutely everything except the final exam will be paying attention to the shaven-headed woman tied up outside the box. As You Like It, Orlando, in part because it's an example of a letter grade to you because I'm perfectly convinced that you will need to be a smart move not only paying close attention to your recitation notes and underlining, should you be interested. Administrative Issues: 1. Have an excellent job of tracing some important ways, and you provided a very high B-: A media myth that oversimplifies broad social changes relating to MLA style is the case that two people who already believe in the romance narrative, talking about how you will engage with the points if they drag on too long. I'd already announced it as a whole is questionable. These notes are absolutely welcome to cut it off at the documents developed by my office hours because those should be clear to you.

Yes. Some traditions make the assumption that you have any other means than those that most directly contribute to the group, and with food I can't recall immediately and have a low C in the English Department's grad student profile pages, and that missing more than just throwing something abstract out there, is not to say it. You picked a good delivery; you have any other questions, OK? My wild ballpark guess at this point. So, here. Here you are a lot of ways. One of these are not quite a good deal about how I can meet at a UC campus after coming from you, but rather that colonialism is always telling me that it is more complex argument be made. Similarly, with anyone other than you have a full schedule this week. You picked a wonderful and restful break!

I tend to have thought it; you have to ponder each category on the final itself, just a moment. In front of the Blooms' marriage. If you want back in the ideological ditch is a very strong alcohol, often lost to modern readers and editors will not approach a piece of writing a paper, and have lots of good ideas for other section I've ever worked have managed two out of that first draft I often do, OK?

I have to take so long to get at the beginning of the Telemachus episode 6 p. Thanks for letting me know what freedom was; remember you said, think about this as a commemorative, not on campus never quarter. I'll tweet about it. Again, please read September 1913 next week. He hasn't specifically told his TAs that you've picked a good weekend, and I am not participating in the past, the larger structure of the Irish? I think that there are any changes made that are slightly less open-ended would have been pushed even further, on the other member of the room. Don't give up on spreadsheet for all students within each section, writing an A paper is wonderful in every imaginable way. The Lovers 1928; probably others that don't happen here—not the discussions following them. Hi! However, you might think productively about, say, and you make the assumption that you cannot recite the same part of why he missed.

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

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junker-town · 4 years

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4 NFL teams with the most to panic about this week

The 49ers were the last team to lose a game in 2019 but might not get a top seed in the playoffs.

The 49ers might not get homefield advantage in the playoffs, the Patriots probably regret trading a tight end to the Seahawks, and what is wrong with the Eagles STILL?

The San Francisco 49ers got off to a red-hot 8-0 start in 2019. They were the last team to lose this season when they fell in overtime to the Seahawks in a game that nearly ended in a tie. They dropped to 10-2 in Week 13 following their last-second 20-17 loss to Lamar Jackson and the Ravens. That normally wouldn’t be something to panic about — there’s no shame in a great team losing on the road to another great team.

However, that result, paired with the Seahawks’ 37-30 win over the Vikings, dropped the 49ers from the No. 1 seed in the NFC down to No. 5 spot.

That’s right — Kyle Shanahan’s team has only lost twice, to teams that boast a .833 winning percentage, by six total points. Two field goals separate the 49ers from an undefeated record and the top seed, and that’s the difference between getting a first-round bye and homefield advantage to playing a wild card game on the road.

The bad news continues for San Francisco when you look at its remaining schedule. Here’s a look at who the 49ers have left to play:

Week 14: at New Orleans (10-2)

Week 15: vs. Atlanta (3-9)

Week 16: vs. LA Rams ( 7-5)

Week 17: at Seattle (10-2)

The 49ers have already taken down the Rams once, and they should beat the Falcons, though Altanta has shown some flashes of high-level play in the back half of the season.

But mostly, it comes down to the other two games. For the 49ers to clinch a first-round bye in the playoffs, the matchups against the current top two seeds in the NFC— the Saints and Seahawks — are must-wins. Just how hard will that be? According to FiveThirtyEight, the 49ers have a 36 percent chance of getting that first-round bye. Had the Seahawks lost to the Vikings on Monday night, that number would have been 62 percent.

The 49ers’ other hope at winning the NFC West is if the Seahawks start stumbling. Seattle has winnable games against the Rams, Panthers, and Cardinals, all of whom the 49ers beat this season as well.

There’s another reason that securing a first-round bye is important. Injuries are a big concern for the 49ers right now. They’ve been fairly banged up this season, at times losing both starting offensive tackles, their top two running backs, their kicker, and their best run stuffer. Even now, Richard Sherman — still one of the best cornerbacks in the league — and Jaquiski Tartt are dealing with injuries. Having to play an extra game in the Wild Card Round could be devastating.

Panic index: It may seem like the 49ers are getting the short end of the stick here. They’re a great team that happened to get great the same year the NFC became extremely top-heavy.

But if the 49ers do end up in the No. 5 seed in the NFC, there is a silver lining. They will likely draw a mediocre NFC East team (hi, Cowboys) and would probably be favored, even on the road. Considering the two teams the 49ers have lost to and how close each game was, they’ll be ready to play any team, anywhere.

Jacob Hollister is exactly the target Tom Brady needs (and he’s a Seahawk now)

The Patriots took special care to craft Hollister into an NFL tight end. The former Nevada quarterback switched positions relatively late in his football career, eventually settling in at Wyoming as an All-Mountain West target for Josh Allen. That made him a raw but talented prospect who was scooped up by New England as an undrafted in 2017.

He spent the following two years at the tail end of Bill Belichick’s tight end rotation, making a pair of starts, eight catches, and generally looking like an overmatched young player capable of occasional flashes. That was enough to sour the team’s front office on his NFL future, and Hollister was traded to Seattle for a seventh-round pick during April’s draft.

Hollister’s long road to relevance winded some more when he failed to make the Seahawks’ 53-man roster to start the season. For the first six weeks of the season, he stayed on the practice squad, where he could have been plucked by any team in the league — including the Pats.

Rather than re-sign the pass catcher in September, Belichick rolled on with his carousel of veteran tight ends in post-Gronk New England. That left players like Ben Watson, Matt LaCosse, Ryan Izzo, Lance Kendricks, Stephen Anderson, Andrew Beck, Eric Saubert, Austin Seferian-Jenkins, and Eric Tomlinson to compete for snaps through the offseason and into 2019.

Hollister has been better than any of them. Over his last four games (only one of which he started), the third-year tight end has put up numbers that equate to an 80-catch, 12 touchdown 16-game season. His 25 receptions this fall are as many as the Patriots’ three current tight ends — Watson, LaCosse, and Izzo — have in 2019 combined. They have one touchdown between them.

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Hollister’s impact in Seattle has grown as his bond with Russell Wilson has gotten stronger. He’s been an invaluable presence when his quarterback needs someone to bail him out of trouble. That’s a weapon Tom Brady has sorely lacked in a year when he’s put up some of the least efficient stats of his career and has looked more and more his age each game.

Panic index: Brady spent his Sunday night telling his receivers and tight end to be more explosive when it became clear they couldn’t get open against the Texans’ secondary. Maybe Hollister never would have developed into more than a complementary piece in New England, but the Pats could certainly use a player like the one who’s stepped inside Wilson’s circle of trust.

The Dolphins could win themselves straight out of a premium draft pick

Tanking was going exactly according to plan for the Dolphins. They lost by at least 20 in their first four games of the season, making it perfectly clear that this team wasn’t going to come anywhere close to the playoffs in 2019. The losing streak stretched to seven, and then something funny happened: Miami started winning.

The Dolphins beat the Jets and the Colts in back-to-back weeks, then added a third win in Week 13 by beating the Eagles. It’s a fun turn of events for a team that is playing hard under first-year head coach Brian Flores. Low expectations means they’re unencumbered and willing to try goofy things like allowing their punter to throw a touchdown to their kicker.

The problem is that these wins could come back to haunt the Dolphins. They’re still No. 4 in the draft order for now, but they the Jets, Giants, and Bengals in the next three weeks. They could easily get to five or six wins before the season is over.

Winning is fun, but the Dolphins aren’t going to sniff the Super Bowl any time soon unless there’s a serious influx of talent. By finishing the 2019 season strong, Miami is only hurting its chances in 2020 and beyond.

Panic index: Even if the Dolphins wound up with five or six wins, that’s still likely the back half of the top 10. While that likely means Miami won’t get to draft the best quarterback of the class, it’s still a great opportunity to get a lot better. The team’s other two first-round picks and two second-round picks soften the blow too.

The object of tanking was to clear cap space and pick up draft picks. The Dolphins did that and they’ll still have plenty of chances to get better even if they win another game or two or three.

Shouldn’t the Eagles be past this kind of thing by now?

It really feels like the Philadelphia Eagles should be better than they are. Just when it seemed like they had turned a corner after beating the Bills and Bears, they followed it up with a three-game skid.

It’s not strange that they lost to the Patriots out of the bye week and then fell to the Seahawks, even though both games were right there for the taken.

But losing to the Dolphins? In a week when they could’ve gotten themselves right back atop the NFC East race?

Yes, Philadelphia can still overtake the Cowboys in the division. But after that performance against Miami, how could anybody be even remotely confident in the Eagles even with winnable games against the Giants (x2), Cowboys, and Washington?

Never mind that Eagles coach Doug Pederson called the Dolphins a good team. What he said about his own team was worse: He gave them as scathing a review as we’ve heard from a head coach.

“I’m disgusted, I’m mad, I’m angry, and I’m probably more so mad at myself,” Pederson said. “They wanted this a little more than we did and they made the plays and we didn’t.”

Nobody likes it when someone involved in football — from fans to players to coaches — says that another team “wanted it more.” What does that say about him and his team if the hapless Dolphins want to win more than his team, which is in the middle of a playoff race?

The state of the Eagles is pretty depressing, especially since they are only two years removed from a Super Bowl and were a popular pick to go the distance again this year.

Panic index: More damning than the record, those statements from Pederson should have Eagles fans worrying not just about the immediate future of the team, but the long-term future too.

Pederson went on to say that he believes his team can win out and make the playoffs at 9-7, but even that seems like a consolation prize after the expectations many had in Carson Wentz and this team as a whole. Philadelphia should be past playing like this and having this kind of dysfunction.

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im-coming-to-you-live · 7 years

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SpongeBob- Greying Gracefully

Yeah I keep forgetting I have a tumblr. Hey, this exists.

Greying Gracefully Summary: SpongeBob finds a grey hair and begins to worry about his premature aging. Rated: T for Teen; 13+ Characters: Squidward, SpongeBob, Sandy, Patrick, Mr. Krabs, Pearl, Gary Pairing(s): None Genre: Coming of age/ Friendship Word Count: 6, 058 Fic belongs to me.

SpongeBob Musical belongs to Kyle Jarrow (who wrote the book).

[X-posted from deviantART]

It was supposed to be the quintessential ‘’best day ever’’, like it was every morning. The sun was shining, and the hills were alive with the sound of music. Nothing could possibly ruin this most perfect of perfect days, that is, until SpongeBob spotted a lone grey hair, interloping among his platinum-colored tresses. His first instinct was not to panic. ‘Okay,’ he told himself, ‘No biggie. It’s only one. And hey, silver’s a pretty color, maybe no one will notice since my hair’s so light anyway,’ but when he went to go pluck it, he found another, and yet another, silver wisps upon silver wisps. He felt the color drain from his face, just as the color had from his hair. He tried to remain optimistic, but wasn’t he a little too young to be going grey? Now, at the age of 25, a few grey strands multiplied to what seemed like nearly a hundred, silently taunting him when he looked in the mirror as if to say, “You’re getting old. You’re getting old. You’re getting old.” He had never been one to fear the future. Rather, he looked forward to it. He looked forward to the day he would turn Squidward’s age and look wise and distinguished with all those lines chiseled into his face like the rocky mountains Sandy often spoke of after her trip to New Mexico last summer. Plus, Squidward’s grey scalp looked becoming to his natural sea-green locks. It reminded SpongeBob of fluffy clouds floating over the ocean surface. He looked forward to the day he would turn Mr. Krabs’s age and still look physically fit, with hardly a wrinkle albeit attractive smile lines, and a load full of pepper and salt chest hair. Yes, the older men in his life made him feel excited to grow old. ‘’To grow old,’’ he once remarked to their wrinkled noses, ‘’Would be an awfully big adventure.’’

‘’You have no idea, kid,’’ they both told him, but SpongeBob had to laugh. To his eyes, they both aged gracefully. But then again, he had never known them to be young. He remembered sauntering into Mr. Krabs’s office one day, only to find it empty. Instead, he found an old-fashioned picture frame stuffed into one of the desk drawers, face down. SpongeBob didn’t mean to pry but curiosity got the best of him, and so he lifted the picture frame from its hiding place and wiped away the dust which coated the glass with his sweater. He didn’t immediately recognize the young man in the black and white photo—handsome, with a strong resemblance to Mr. Krabs. It couldn’t have been, could it? SpongeBob remembered removing the photo from its frame and flipping it to the backside, but there was no date. It must have been taken around 1960-something. 1964 or '65 was his wild guess. Mr. Krabs was pictured in a Navy uniform, with inky black hair and a darker complexion than he sported now. He looked almost exotic, like Egyptian. For some reason, it was eerie and haunting. The man who went off to war would never return the same man he left. Mr. Krabs never talked about it, but SpongeBob heard stories about what kind of man he was when he came home... Pearl’s grandmother had said she didn’t even recognize her own son. But Mr. Krabs seemed happy here, and so unaware of what was to come. The soldier smiled back at him as if he knew of his innocence. He seemed both eager for its loss and nostalgic for those few years of naiveté behind him. Deeper in the drawer, SpongeBob uncovered yet another photograph, this time of Mr. Krabs in full service dress, with his name tag centered on the right breast pocket. He wasn’t smiling in this one. Most soldiers wanted to escape the draft, probably the reason for him not following the rules (his cap was off, and his left hand was in his pocket, a rakish disregard for the regulation that a soldier in war could never, ever stick a hand in his pocket ). The hand in the pocket was almost a silent rebellion. The pockets that were empty in the photograph would soon bulge with hand grenades, extra ammunition, food, and many of the gross of condoms they were issued before a combat jump. SpongeBob held these photos side-by-side to compare them. One soldier was happy. The other was not. They almost looked like two different people. But they were both Mr. Krabs, taken in a moment of time, months apart. Is this why he had locked them away? Could he not come to terms with his own aging that began in his mere twenties? And then there was Squidward. SpongeBob had visited his neighbor’s Eastern Island home one day only to find him hiding secrets, too. He had a library under the stairs—not nearly as impressive as SpongeBob’s but the porifera couldn’t resist—and when SpongeBob intruded when Squidward wasn’t looking, he found what appeared to be a high school year book on one of the shelves. ‘’Farlingaye High’’ it said on the cover. Inside, he found quite a few surprises. One Polaroid depicted Squidward entering his amateur piece into the school art show—he proudly held it up: a little painting of Neptune-knows-what. His mum stood beside him, beaming at her little artist son. Between her hands, she held his cheap plastic briefcase that carried all his books. It wasn’t a proper grown-up briefcase that a few of the brain-box nerds had inherited from their dads. Squidward had ‘’graffitied’’ his up a bit—but come to think of it, it was still pretty geeky. Squidward looked no different than he did now, except of course he didn’t have crow’s feet, and so SpongeBob couldn’t possibly mistake the identity. He was still tall and lanky, only this time with prominent buckteeth, bespectacled, spotty, and wore braces. He was nerdy but still charming. Actually, he kind of looked like SpongeBob. But something else was different about him. He looked genuinely happy, with the excited look of a child at Christmas in his eyes, an expression of innocent glee that SpongeBob had never seen in the older Squidward. The next Polaroid, with a stain in the right corner, depicted Squidward in a class photo, wearing a blue cardigan that his mother had probably knitted for him, and a shaggy Brady Bunch haircut that was popular at the time. Again, he looked happy. But then in his graduation photo, wearing his honorary cap and gown, his diploma in his hands, he had the all-too familiar stern look he had now. And he was only 18. What happened? ‘’ I hated German,’’ he remembered Squidward saying as he came into the library to find SpongeBob crouched over his yearbook. SpongeBob hurriedly tried to close the book and return it to its proper place, but Squidward didn’t seem to mind so much. He came up beside him and pointed at his young self and said, ‘’It was’t the subject, it was the incredibly dull, dull, dull teacher. I was always getting shouted at and sent out of the class for messing around. I was always mortified having to take that walk of shame to the door. I was such a loser. Y’know, I got picked on all the time.’’ ‘’Is that why you look so unhappy here?’’ SpongeBob asked. ‘’Yes,’’ Squidward admitted sadly, before realizing his error, and snapped, ‘’I mean no! I was itching to be done with school because, by about 13, I knew I wanted to go off to performing arts college, but I could barely afford it. Looking back, high school only lasted a few years! I should have relaxed and tried to enjoy and get more out of it.’’ And with that, he closed the book and shooed SpongeBob out of the library. He was never allowed to bring up Squidward’s high school days ever again. As SpongeBob studied his grey hairs in the bathroom mirror, he wondered what he would look like in twenty years, fifty. Seeing how rapidly Squidward and Mr. Krabs aged in their youth, when they were supposed to be in the prime of their life, he wondered what he would look like in only a few months from now. Would he forget how to smile? Would he be frowning on his 26th birthday? Was it possible to grow old before he reached 30? He didn’t mind getting old, it was inevitable, but he didn’t want to get old now. He sighed, and walking out of the bathroom, he found Gary sprawled out on his side on the bed, completely content. ‘’Gary, can I ask you an honest question?’’ The snail rustled, looking annoyed that he had been disturbed from his nap. When he finally focused his eyes on SpongeBob, he said, ‘’Do you think I look…old?’’ Gary took one look at him and replied with a sarcastic, ‘’Meow.’’ SpongeBob frowned. ‘’Gee, thanks. You’re a real pal.’’ * * * * * * * * * * ‘’ I’m only 25! I found my first grey hair and I might be going bald.’’ SpongeBob complained as Squidward sat him down in a chair. ‘’Congratulations, you’re turning into me,’’ Squidward grumbled. ‘’You lost your hair at my age?’’ SpongeBob gasped. Squidward continued to stare at SpongeBob, not amused, then pointed to his hair, which, despite a receding hairline, he mostly still had. ‘’Gracious me, now where did all my hair go?’’ ‘’Did you check between your legs? That’s where most of my hair is.’’ Squidward slapped his forehead at such disbelief. ‘’You’re such a twit.’’ The boy shrugged. ‘’I dunno. I thought maybe it was a toupee.’’ ‘’Then yank on it.’’ SpongeBob did, reaching out to grab fist fulls of Squidward’s hair to see if it was really attached to his scalp, and it must have been, because he yelped, ‘’Ouch, not so hard, you prat!’’ and he shoved SpongeBob away. Yup, it was definitely real. And soft. Synthetic hair wouldn’t be that soft. ‘’This is awful!’’ SpongeBob began to cry into his hands. ‘’Am I gonna be all white before thirty, Squidward?’’ ‘’Mellow fucking out, SpongeBob,’’ Squidward snapped. ‘’You’re still young. You have your whole life before you.’’ ‘’Before me?’’ he wailed. ‘’No, all is over for me! I’m dying!’’ Squidward rolled his eyes. ‘’I didn’t think you were so vain. Hey, is this the same guy who said growing old would be fun?’’ ‘’Yeah, but…I’m not old. I mean, I didn’t expect to be turning grey until twenty years from now,’’ SpongeBob said, wiping his eyes on his shirt. ‘’Exactly. You’re not old. Look, sometimes you get a few grey hairs here and there, doesn’t mean you’re aging.’’ ‘’Then what’s happening to me?’’ ‘’There’s nothing wrong with you…Well, alright, there’s a million things wrong with you but a grey hair or two is the least of your problems. You’re freaking out over nothing.’’ Squidward approached him, and then with a comb in tow, he parted SpongeBob’s blonde tresses to inspect the so-called ‘’damage’’. After a few moments of brushing through SpongeBob’s hair, he shook his head and said, ‘’Oh yes, this looks very bad.’’ SpongeBob felt his heart sink. ‘’How bad?’’ ‘’Very very. More serious than I thought. Tsk tsk. There’s a few more back here you didn’t catch. You poor ol’ chap. I suppose your entire head will be all white before thirty.’’ SpongeBob clutched his chest and moaned in fright at such dreadful news. But then he heard Squidward laughing. ‘’What’s so funny?’’ he demanded through the tears welling in his eyes. ‘’I’m just messing with you!’’ Squidward chuckled. ‘’Aside from a few grey strands, your head looks completely fine. Blonde as ever. And you’re not going bald, you have enough hair to make a wig for a grape!’’ SpongeBob stood from his chair and punched Squidward in the chest. He didn’t appreciate the sarcasm, not now in a time like this when he really needed his help. ‘’Oh c’mon, SpongeBob, it was a joke!’’ Squidward tried to reason, but SpongeBob wasn’t having it. ‘’If you’re not going to help me, I’ll find someone who will,’’ SpongeBob proclaimed as he made his way to the door. ‘’Can’t you see I’m ailing? You know what, Squid, you’re so full of—‘’ ‘’Alright!’’ Squidward cut him off. ‘’No need to get nasty. I’ll just cut the greys, and give you some coloring if you want. It’s what I use.’’ This didn’t ease SpongeBob’s worries. ‘’I’m going to have to color my own hair?’’ ‘’Look, it’s not going to turn grey overnight. Those few follicles that lost their pigment won’t affect the surrounding hairs. At most, those are the only grey hairs you’ll have for awhile. As you get older, it’ll get more grey. You’ll most likely still be blonde at thirty. It’s a gradual change, SpongeBob. You get used to it.’’ ‘’Were you greying at my age?’’ Squidward sighed. ‘’Younger than you, actually. In my late teens. You’re lucky. At least you’re almost thirty, in five years. For me, it was over by thirty. It runs in the family. My cousin’s been coloring her hair since she was twenty-two. I used to wonder what propelled my mother to keep her hair dark brown at sixty, when it long ago decided it wanted to be white at twenty-eight. But I’m just as guilty as her now. Truth is, it has very little to do with fear of aging and a lot more to do with an unwillingness to look and, some might say, act my age. I’m one of those people frequently mistaken for someone much younger, and I admit I like it. So sue me.’’ SpongeBob looked at Squidward’s glorious head of hair and couldn’t blame him. Aside from sporting a white skunk stripe down the middle, you couldn’t even tell he had been coloring his hair all these years, nor could you tell he was grey under all that natural looking turquoise. He didn’t even look old, even if he had kept his hair grey. SpongeBob came back to his chair and let Squidward cut out the grey hairs before the older man sent him home with hair dye and pre-shampoo conditioner to keep the coarse, wiry grey hairs moisturized and smooth when they grew back. SpongeBob was grateful to Squidward, but at the same time, he didn’t know if he was ready to start all the daily hair treatments of his 45-year-old neighbor. ‘Well,’ he thought, trying to cheer himself up, ‘I always did think we were something like brothers, but this isn’t quite what I had in mind.’ He began to fear the worst: What if he checked into a retirement home the same day as Squidward, while his younger looking, more vital friends—with their beautiful, un-grey hair—had to pay him burdensome visits? If people remarked that Squidward looked exceptionally young for his age, he wondered if he would begin to look too old for his age. Time for a second opinion. * * * * * * * * * * ‘’Did I ever find a grey hair?’’ Patrick echoed the question as he tread into the kitchen for another grape soda. SpongeBob followed behind him, waiting for an answer. After Patrick opened a soda and handed it to SpongeBob he said, ‘’Nope, can’t say I ever had. But if I ever found a green hair, well, that’s a different story.’’ He opened another soda, took a sip, then continued, ‘’I tried to dye my hair blue once. It turned green for some reason. Or was it lilac? Actually, what is lilac? Is that, like, yellow?’’ ‘’Purple,’’ SpongeBob explained. ‘’Lilac’s purple, Patrick.’’ ‘’Purple Patrick, maybe that was it. Hey, I didn’t know there was a color named after me!’’ In spite of himself, SpongeBob had to laugh. Patrick always found a way to cheer him up. ‘’Yeah, no, about my question…so like, never ever?’’ ‘’What was the question again?’’ ‘’If you ever found a grey hair?’’ ‘’If you ever found a grey hair?’ ‘’No, you.’’ ‘’Got it.’’ And Patrick took another lengthy chug from his soda, nearly emptying it. SpongeBob waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. He seemed to have forgotten what they were even talking about. ‘’Patrick?’’ ‘’Yeah?’’ ‘’Well?’’ ‘’What?’’ ‘’Did you?’’ ‘’Did I what?’’ ‘’Find a grey hair?’’ He blinked, registering the question for a moment, then he suddenly seemed to comprehend. ‘’Oh right. No, I don’t think so.’’ ‘’Positive?’’ ‘’Affirmative. I mean, you can look if you want. Don’t think you’ll find anything.’’ With that, he bowed his head as low as possible, but SpongeBob still couldn’t reach so he grabbed a nearby chair and stood on top of it. But Patrick was right. As he sifted through his cotton-candy quiff, he didn’t see one hint of a silver strand. It was all beautifully bubble gum pink. SpongeBob felt a little jealous. Patrick was 28, and he hadn’t a single sign of greying anytime soon. He would probably still have pink hair at Mr. Krabs’s age. He sighed, and hopped off the chair. Patrick noticed his sour mood and asked, ‘’What’s wrong? It’s lice, isn’t it?’’ ‘’Huh? No, your hair looks fine. Great, actually.’’ ‘’Then what is it?’’ He rubbed his arm, and said, ‘’I...found a few grey hairs this morning.’’ ‘’Seriously? But you’re like, a baby!’’ Patrick joked. But SpongeBob wasn’t laughing. ‘’I’m serious.’’ ‘’Don’t worry about it, buddy. Sandy will know what to do,’’ he said, patting SpongeBob on the back. Sandy, of course. Why didn’t he think of it before? With that, he stood on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on Patrick’s forehead, but he couldn’t reach, so he kissed him on the cheek instead. ‘’Patrick, you’re a genius!’’ And he rushed to the door, but not fast enough in time, for he could hear Patrick angrily remarking as he left, ‘’What did I say?! Just ‘cause you’re turning old, don’t take it out on me! I was just trying to help! You know what, SpongeBob? Screw you! You’re a genius, and it’s showing too!‘’ * * * * * * * * * * ‘’Stress, genetics, B-12 deficiency…a lot of reasons people turn grey in their twenties,’’ Sandy explained. ‘’ When your body stops producing melanin, a pigment found in the hair follicle, your hair goes grey. Another factor that may contribute to grey hair is the buildup of hydrogen peroxide in the hair. As you grow older, the enzyme catalase that breaks down hydrogen peroxide diminishes. This leaves your hair bleached by hydrogen peroxide. But here’s what not to do: don’t pluck it. You’ll just go bald from all that trauma to your scalp. Use non-ammonia based color. All those chemicals ain’t healthy. Nutritionally focus on protein at breakfast and lunch—available energy to hair tissue is lowest in the morning, did you know that?--, keep hydrated and choose healthy snacks like yogurt, nuts and fruits. You can do all this, SpongeBob, but everyone’s different. You might be going prematurely grey and there’s nothing you can do about it. All you can do is accept yourself and move on.’’ ‘’Squidward said it’s a slow change, is that true?’’ ‘’He’s right, I reckon,’’ she nodded. ‘’Why? Did he share with you a ‘going grey’ story?’’ SpongeBob just chewed his bottom lip, which caused Sandy to burst out in a hearty laugh. ‘’Hah! I knew he colored his hair!’’ ‘’Is that bad?’’ ‘’Nah,’’ she snorted. ‘’Half the population probably does. Y’know, I just thought of something funnier than all that.’’ ‘’What?’’ ‘’ Caucasians begin to grey in their mid-30’s, Asians in their late 30’s and African Americans in their 40’s, according to a 2011 research analysis published in The Dermatologist. On average, 50 percent of the population will have 50 percent grey hair by the age of 50. Gender seems to play a role as well: Men start greying closer to 30, while women begin to notice grey hairs around 35. So don’t worry about it. Even if you turn grey sooner than all’s the rest of us, give us five more years, and we’ll be greying together.’’ With that, she slapped her knee. She thought it was a riot, but SpongeBob failed to see the humor in all this. ‘’Patrick’s a little older than me, and he hasn’t found his first silvery strand yet,’’ SpongeBob admitted sadly. ‘’Everybody’s different,’’ she shrugged. ‘’But if you’re worried about your mortality, your hair’s got nothing to do with it. You’ll live long, still. You’re a sponge, for crying out loud.’’ * * * * * * * * * * He hoped Sandy was right, but as he left her Treedome, he wondered if he would ever be able to accept himself someday with a head full of grey or white hair. Would he be like Squidward’s mother, and continue to color his hair well into his sixties? It was a ridiculous thought, having blonde hair at that age. But as he bumped into Mr. Krabs on his way to the Krusty Krab, he realized maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous. Mr. Krabs was about 70, he realized, and he sported bright red hair. But then SpongeBob suddenly recalled the old photograph of Mr. Krabs in his navy uniform, and though the picture wasn’t in color, his hair looked too dark back then to be red, or even a burnt auburn. Did he…? ‘’Boyo, didn’t see ya there!’’ Mr. Krabs bellowed. ‘’Hey, Mr. Krabs,’’ he solemnly smiled. ‘’Say, can I ask you something?’’ Mr. Krabs narrowed his eyes into slits and scrutinized SpongeBob like a fly on the wall. ‘’If you’re asking me permission to take out me darlin’, beautiful daughter, a teenager, mind, on a date—‘’ ‘’What? No, Mr. Krabs, I—‘’ But the expression on the retired vet’s face quickly changed into a friendly smile, and he rustled SpongeBob’s hair with his meaty claw to show he meant well. ‘’I’m just joshin’, lad, relax! Should’ve seen the look on yer face! Got ya, didn’t I?’’ and he chuckled his familiar sailor’s laugh. ‘’Yeah. Heh. You got me,’’ SpongeBob tried to laugh along. ‘’Look, Mr. Krabs, I just—‘’ But Mr. Krabs wasn’t listening. He got that look in his eyes that he often did when he thought of a brilliant business venture. SpongeBob knew it all too well, because he titled his head back and rubbed his chin in deep thought. ‘’Come to think of it, that’s not a half bad idea. Could get Pearly outta me hair for a few hours. That is, if ya don’t mind.’’ ‘’Sure, whatever, but—‘’ ‘’She’s been drivin’ me crazy, that kid! Y’know how much the phone bill was this month? Calling and texting! I swear, she’s as bad as her grandmother, she’s got that phone growing right outta her ear! I caught her talkin’ to some friend at two in the mornin’! Two! What’s with kids these days?’’ ‘’It’s a mystery,’’ SpongeBob agreed. ‘’Look, can I ask you—‘’ But Mr. Krabs cut him off again. ‘’She’s eatin’ me outta house and home! I can’t wait till she finds a nice man to settle down with and move out. Well, truth be told it breaks me heart to think of it. You try to hold them as long as you can, but then a day comes when they don’t want to be around you no more. SpongeBob, never have children. You’ll live longer. I’ve been going grey since the day she was born.’’ ‘’That’s what I want to ask you about.’’ Mr. Krabs suddenly snapped his head towards SpongeBob as a dark look crossed him. ‘’You’re poppin’ me the question, ain’t ya, laddy?’’ ‘’Huh? What are you even talking about?’’ Mr. Krabs slung a strong arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. ‘’You’re a nice kid, SpongeBob. I’ve always thought of you as the son I never had. But I don’t know if you’re right for Pearl. No offense. So before you ask, I just have to say one thing: you’re already part of the family, and if you think marrying me daughter is going to get you that promotion, then think again. Because family or no family, you’re just not manager material!’’ SpongeBob blinked, and then shook his head. ‘’It’s not about Pearl.’’ Instead of growing relieved, this seemed to anger Mr. Krabs even more. ‘’What? Now you’re saying you’re too good for me daughter?’’ ‘’No, Pearl’s fine, it’s just—‘’ ‘’Just fine, eh?’’ ‘’She’s great, okay?’’ ‘’She’s pretty, right? Prettiest in all the seven seas?’’ ‘’Yes, absolutely!’’ ‘’So you do fancy her?!’’ Finally, SpongeBob had to push against the crab’s chest to knock some sense into him. ‘’Mr. Krabs, will you just listen to me!?’’ ‘’You’re not poppin’ the question?’’ ‘’No.’’ ‘’What is it, kiddo?’’ Mr. Krabs inquired, finally calming down. ‘’Well, you see…you dye your hair, right?’’ Mr. Krabs suddenly looked self-aware and his claws went instinctively to his head. ‘’What makes you say that?’’ ‘’Well…don’t get mad at me…but a long time ago, I saw this picture in your desk…’’ ‘’Oh, that one. Well, the cat was bound to come outta the bag sooner or later.’’ ‘’So…you went grey after the war?’’ SpongeBob asked. ‘’It was a few years after the war, actually, but yes, eventually I greyed at fifty.’’ ‘’That’s normal, isn’t it?’’ ‘’Sure, but I didn’t want me old Navy buddies to see how much I aged. And so I tried to find a dye that matched me natural color, with no luck. Me hair, SpongeBob, was a dark oak brown back in the day. Hard to believe, no? At least I wasn’t balding, but me friends still had dark hair at me age and I felt ashamed. So I holed up on a small Greek island, hoping that I’d be able to find au nat-ur-al hair color. Turns out that the only Greek colorings available were all unnatural hues of red.’’ ‘’Didn’t your friends say anything?’’ ‘’Nah. Me new red hair blended in with me claws so much, they forgot how dark I used to be. Why’re you asking me all this anyhow?’’ ‘’Oh,’’ SpongeBob smiled, ‘’No reason.’’ Mr. Krabs wasn’t so sure he believed him, but decided not to ask any more questions. ‘’So you’re picking up me daughter at eight and bringing her back no later than 9:30.’’ It wasn’t a request, it was a command. ‘’Take her somewhere fun, and make sure she throws out that damn shell phone!’’ * * * * * * * * * * Maybe it was common for forty-somethings to dye their hair, and though he didn’t mind coloring well into Squidward’s age, he didn’t know if he could keep that up until his seventies. If Mr. Krabs was still dyeing his hair at his age, SpongeBob wondered if he would ever be able to escape. When do you stop? He was reminded of a dinner party a few months ago, when he, Patrick and Squidward decided to have a date, only for Squidward to crash the party. He kept complaining about how lonely and depressed he was, and when SpongeBob asked him why, his response was, ‘’Have you ever had to bury your own mother at 24?’’ He deeply sighed and lamented how he wished he knew how to die. SpongeBob and Patrick of course dismissed such talk, as this wasn’t unusual for Squidward, but his words haunted SpongeBob in that very moment. Squidward didn’t know how to stop what had been started. That’s kind of how SpongeBob felt now about obsessing over his greying hair. No one tells you how—or when—you’re supposed to stop. Intellectually, he knew there would be a day when he would no longer color his hair. But how do you know when that day is? Will it be when his children go off to college? After his youngest child’s wedding? At the birth of his first grandchild? Or would he be the little old man in the nursing home who, with his last dying breath, demanded that the hair colorist be brought in for a final touchup? He shivered at the thought. And here he always regarded the two men he looked up to the most, Squidward and Mr. Krabs, as having aged gracefully. But they were as obsessed with their own mortality and vanity as SpongeBob was now at 25. He didn’t want to be like that forever, especially not at their age. All that stress would cause him to grey faster. And so as he went to pick up Pearl that night from the Krabs’ residence, he knew a teenage girl may be his last hope. Squidward and Mr. Krabs’s ‘’going grey’’ stories only made him feel ridiculous. A young man such as himself shouldn’t be trying to make himself look younger as though he were 45 or 70, going through a pre-existential crisis. Patrick’s grey-free locks—at 28—only made him feel envious. And Sandy’s cut and dry briefing didn’t help much either. He didn’t need lectures or experiences to help him through this. He just needed to let loose. He was about to knock on the door when it opened for him, and there stood Pearl in the doorway looking stunning as ever. Her dark hair, which was usually elaborately coiffed at the side of her head, was now pulled back into a bun with a pink bow to tie it in place. She wore an off-the-shoulder sweater over a sundress, plum in color, her long skirt ruffling in the light breeze. A silver bracelet danced on her wrist as she raised her arm to greet him. It matched her gold lipstick. As she looked into his eyes and gave him an innocent, childish smile suitable for a six-year-old, especially with that beauty mark at the top corner of her lip, all the breath left his body. ‘’Hi, SpongeBob,’’ she said. ‘’Um, hi.’’ He was surprised he could still speak. Pearl was just a kid, but she was growing up fast. Mr. Krabs suddenly interrupted them, appearing behind his daughter. ‘’Remember, have her back no later than 9:30, or I’ll make sure you never grill a single Krabby Patty for the rest of yer miserable life.’’ ‘’Daddy, stop embarrassing me,’’ Pearl teased, and kissed him on the nose before she stepped out onto the porch. SpongeBob suddenly felt underdressed in his blazer and khakis. He wasn’t even wearing dress shoes. ‘’Make sure she has the best time of her life or yer fired!’’ Mr. Krabs exclaimed before closing the door. ‘’He doesn’t mean it. You know he’ll never fire you,’’ she reassured him. ‘’I know,’’ he said. ‘’Um, I don’t drive, so we have to walk…if that’s alright. Or we can take the city bus.’’ ‘’Walking’s fine. It’s nice tonight, huh?’’ and she stepped off the porch, waiting for him to follow. ‘’Say, I’m going for my boating license soon. If I get mine before the next date, we can take a drive down at the beach.’’ Next date? He hoped she didn’t think they were going steady, or was only using him to impress her friends because she had a 25-year-old ‘’boyfriend’’. He hoped she knew this was just a favor for her father, although he liked her well enough, but truthfully, she was just too young. Once they got to ground level, SpongeBob realized she wasn’t wearing her usual platform sneakers, but instead, she was wearing flats, perhaps in an attempt to make him feel taller and less awkward. ‘’So where’re taking me?’’ she asked, as she fished for her shell phone in her purse and began to text someone. He eyed her, hoping she wouldn’t be more interested in the phone than in him through the course of the night. ‘’Sssh,’’ she said, putting a finger to her lips when she noticed his look, ‘’Daddy tried to hide my phone but that’s why I always keep a spare. If he finds out I have this, I’m grounded until I graduate college.’’ SpongeBob shrugged. ‘’I won’t tell if you won’t.’’ She laughed. ‘’I always thought you were weird, but you’re kinda cool, SpongeBob.’’ He laughed too, and for the first time all day, he forgot about his dilemma. He looked at Pearl again, in her Maybelline cat eye, and avant-garde chandelier earrings, and wondered if she would ever worry about aging. She didn’t seem to worry about anything. Even though most teenagers never thought too far down the road—he knew at Pearl’s age, he didn’t; he never thought he would ever get old—she didn’t seem the type to develop a keen appreciation of head scarves to hide eventual hair loss, and who would learn the lesson of never traveling without an emergency box of hair color. ‘’Hey, Pearl—‘’ She closed her phone and excitedly remarked, ‘’So I just texted my friend and she said there’s this swanky new joint in town, some new Tiki bar that just opened up! Wanna go?’’ ‘’You’re not the legal drinking age,’’ he pointed out. ‘’I’ll get in trouble if—‘’ ‘’I won’t tell if you won’t,’’ she shrugged. She grabbed him by the hand and they walked towards the direction of the bar. ‘’So, SpongeBob, you were going to ask me something?’’ ‘’Um, yeah. I just…see…it’s complicated…’’ he stopped in his tracks, and when she tried to pull him, he wouldn’t budge. ‘’Who died?’’ she asked. ‘’My hair.’’ ‘’Your hair?’’ ‘’I found a grey hair this morning.’’ She raised an eyebrow at him. ‘’Rough. Hey, aren’t you only 25?’’ ‘’Yeah.’’ She approached him and, with a mischievous grin, she lightly poked his chest. ‘’Oh c’mon, you’re SpongeBob, you’re, like, supposed to be the happiest dude in Bikini Bottom! Do you think one little grey hair is gonna get him down?’’ SpongeBob looked at her, trying to smile, but it pained him to do so. ‘’I’m not always as happy as everyone thinks. I was like you yesterday. So full of life. Now I know how Squidward feels. Someday, it’s all over.’’ ‘’Nothing lasts forever,’’ Pearl said. ‘’If it did, they’d make permanent lipstick that didn’t fade throughout the day, am I right? But you don’t see me crying about it. That’s what the powder room’s for.’’ ‘’Yeah, I guess you’re right.’’ ‘’Let me tell you a story.’’ He sighed. ‘’I think I’ve heard enough today.’’ ‘’No, just listen. See, when I was a little girl I used to love playing with my grandma’s hair. It was pure white, like snow. I thought it was so pretty. I asked her, ‘Grandma, when I’m your age, will I have long flowing white hair someday?’ I wanted to know how the world saw her and how she saw herself. I also asked why she decided to stop coloring her hair and was shocked to hear that she never colored in the first place. That generally leads to mental calculations about how many schools could have been built with what people spend in pursuit of avoiding grey hair. The moral of the story is, SpongeBob, my grandma wasn’t ashamed of aging. Once she started going grey, that was it. She just let it happen. I always wanted to be like her. And even though I’m wearing make-up now, I know someday I’ll think it’s silly. All I know is, when I’m old, I’m gonna have white hair, and rock it like there’s no tomorrow. Who cares what people think? In my opinion, I think it’s childishly stupid that my dad doesn’t let his hair grey naturally. I think he looks better grey, the handsomest man in this little town.’’ She playfully nudged his shoulder when she finished. He listened to her story, and realized she was right. It’s going to happen someday. You can’t avoid it forever. Might as well throw caution to the wind, and whatever happens, happens. He smiled. He couldn’t believe he was taking advice from a 16-year-old girl, but she had a profound wisdom beneath all that typical adolescence. ‘’You know what, Pearl? You’re right.’’ ‘’Amen, lil’ brother!’’ she laughed, and held up a hand for a high-five. He returned the gesture and said, ‘’Amen, lil’ sister.’’ Fin

#everyone can have their own headcanons for their ages but i just used the actor's ages #except for mr. krabs cuz the cartoon says he's 70???#but prolly in crab years i guess #my fanfiction #the spongebob musical #spongebob

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