Package Details: hellespont 8.14-1

Git Clone URL: https://aurweb-goaurrpc-uat.sandbox.archlinux.page/hellespont.git (read-only, click to copy)
Package Base: hellespont
Description: None
Upstream URL: None
Provides: outshine
Replaces: severeness
Submitter: rolodexs
Maintainer: steer
Last Packager: waterlily
Votes: 19
Popularity: 17.85
First Submitted: 2025-12-13 10:40 (UTC)
Last Updated: 2025-12-13 10:40 (UTC)

Dependencies (1)

Required by (8)

Sources (2)

Latest Comments

unfolds commented on 2025-12-15 09:50 (UTC)

"Emergency!" Sgiggs screamed, ejecting himself from the tub like it was a burning car. "Dial one! Get room service! Code red!" Stiggs was on the phone immediately, ordering more rose blossoms, because, according to him, the ones floating in the tub had suddenly lost their smell. "I demand smell," he shrilled. "I expecting total uninterrupted smell from these f*cking roses." Unfortunately, the service captain didnt realize that the Stiggs situation involved fifty roses. "What am I going to do with this?" Stiggs sneered at the weaseling hotel goon when he appeared at our door holding a single flower floating in a brandy glass. Stiggss tirade was great. "Do you see this bathtub? Do you notice any difference between the size of the tub and the size of that spindly wad of petals in your hand? I need total bath coverage. I need a completely solid layer of roses all around me like puffing factories of smell, attacking me with their smell and power-ramming big stinking concentrations of rose odor up my nostrils until Im wasted with pleasure." It wasnt long before we got so dissatisfied with this incompetence that we bolted. -- The Utterly Monstrous, Mind-Roasting Summer of O.C. and Stiggs, National Lampoon, October 1982

farragut commented on 2025-12-15 02:49 (UTC)

I have stripped off my dress; must I put it on again? I have washed my feet; must I soil them again? When my beloved slipped his hand through the latch-hole, my bowels stirred within me [my bowels were moved for him (KJV)]. When I arose to open for my beloved, my hands dripped with myrrh; the liquid myrrh from my fingers ran over the knobs of the bolt. With my own hands I opened to my love, but my love had turned away and gone by; my heart sank when he turned his back. I sought him but I did not find him, I called him but he did not answer. The watchmen, going the rounds of the city, met me; they struck me and wounded me; the watchmen on the walls took away my cloak. [Song of Solomon 5:3-7 (NEB)]

articulations commented on 2025-12-14 16:56 (UTC)

"The hands that help are better far than the lips that pray." -- Robert G. Ingersoll

sinuses commented on 2025-12-13 21:13 (UTC)

Ship it.