Thursday, September 13, 2007

Re: (Week 6): Voluntary organisations should take over many functions currently performed by governments.

Hello. Hello Hello....

You can't start a blog entry by tapping on the microphone and expecting the audience to wait while you find the switch. There's this ocean of pain which is swimming through my skull and it's louder than an avalanche crashing on a mezzo-soprano (FA_LA_LA_LAAAAA) and more toxic than DNT detonations in proximity. There was the Readiness and Range Preservation Initiative (RRPI) which was to juggle the act of shutting down and keeping open and I sense some parallels with the 7-11 whose midnight clerk has been shot in the conundrum - but all the cash was left to remain while PARABLES oozed from his glands (it flows slower and slower as the 6 o'clock shift nears) And wouldn't you know, it's the pork rinds which were stolen? There are crimes that come in the heat of the moment, some are of the heart, some are of the intestinal tract.

Friends, regardless, was the 7-11 open or closed? And if it was open, who would be the one to serve the next customer? Hah! Not open. If it was closed, who was the one who locked the door? Hah! Not closed. Likewise, there's this psycho-babble-ish half-state where poles don't meet and Poles don't meat and ... I forgot about that purchase of neodymium magnets I was so excited about back in 3rd Watts... Adam, what about our magnets? Did they get the address wrong again and send the marked goods to another evil-PHYGISIST?- - ---

Such an irrational act, so I was looking up high [and mighty] for clarification and the only sense I got that anyone was listening appeared to descend. [doop] the giant rain clouds opened up for the 3237437th day in a row. I don't know how to cope. Honestly! My umbrella is 7' long and it's like political fanfare everytime the showers come down and the maroon circle goes up. No demonstration, no remonstration, no counteraction, nothing but bombastic bloggery with no follow-through.

I'm tired. Hello hello hello! it's the sound of every lecturer who throws pint-sized textbooks (are they dialect-ICAL dictionaries, LAH?) --- yes, who throws pint-ZISED TECKSTBUX. yes, they throw them and they throw them and I can't seem to wake up from this horrible, horrible 12,000 mile nightmare and I'm sitting on the bus, but the bus isn't moving and the conductor keeps saying ALL ABOARD! ALL ABOARD! and if anyone else hops on the floorboards will bust right through and then I'll have to Wilma Rubble my way over to North America. yabba dabba -

I'm tired of the security guards with the long-drawn faces and their walkie-talkies set to channel 4. I've got a proposal - it's gain-sharing at it's best when the computer labs are silent and dead and the hallways are silent and dead and the 7-11 when the clerk was shot and his parables spilled everywhere --- well, then that (wo)man was also silent and dead. These guards - they bear the world's weight in curled fists that land squarely on spouses chins. 1000 POINTS FOR THAT ONE CHAMP!

It's the women who abuse their men, doncha know, doncha doncha? This paradigm of global this-way that-way, this-way that-way gender violence has been all wrong. We are the generation of female-perpetrated violence and mass emasculation. So sad, he attaches patches on his back everyday just to calibrate testosterone levels. Women - this is what you have subjected the lesser sex to.

So - what have you accomplished today? I saved a powerpoint from near-collapse by pumping its gills and expecting its prongs to open up. PLEASE, PLEASE, CALL 911 --- my powerpoint is DYING!

At the end of the day all you have is an inkless pen with no readers. They left you because you make no fucking sense.

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