Alright, so the kid can't keep a jornal so good. Life isn't a contest, you know.
Here, crunch on this before it gets soggy...
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When we last saw... Oh Crap I can't remember the main character's name. The story is like two journal entries ago and I can't see it from this screen. Has technology aided the human creative spirit at all, or has it really just retarded us in all ways? They say DaVinci could sketch diagrams with one hand and write out essays with the other, simultaneously. Now I've heard some really great rappers, but seriously, what modern human is currently fucking around on that level? C'mon, nobody! And I'm not talking about autistic prodigy genius freaklets who still can't tie their own shoes by age 17. I'm pretty sure DaVinci was getting laid.
Thats not to say that math hasn't brought me more joy than sex has. That's up in the air...
Lets just say his name was Bill.
When we last saw our hero Bill Cardigan(so named after, coincidentally enough, both his paternal and maternal grandfathers), he was examining himself in his modest home's bathroom mirror. After experiencing a brief disturbance in the quality of his sense of hearing, Bill has, with the aid of his life partner of some five and one half years, the comely (and quick-tongued) Margaret Sweeny, partially resolved the issue of his decreased auditory awareness. But as fortune would have it, the remedy of one relatively simple problem has in its very self been the opening curtain to a spectacle of far stranger concerns.
Bill stands before the mirror. Secure in his left arm nests the momentarily quipless Ms. Sweeny. In his right hand, Bill clutches the one foot square piece of red and white checkered tablecloth-like material that has just been improbbably birthed from his right ear.
"Well this has definitely never happened to me before," says Bill, "I really would've remembered some shit like this."
*****************************************
Uh ok. I'm bored now. see ya.
Here, crunch on this before it gets soggy...
**********************
When we last saw... Oh Crap I can't remember the main character's name. The story is like two journal entries ago and I can't see it from this screen. Has technology aided the human creative spirit at all, or has it really just retarded us in all ways? They say DaVinci could sketch diagrams with one hand and write out essays with the other, simultaneously. Now I've heard some really great rappers, but seriously, what modern human is currently fucking around on that level? C'mon, nobody! And I'm not talking about autistic prodigy genius freaklets who still can't tie their own shoes by age 17. I'm pretty sure DaVinci was getting laid.
Thats not to say that math hasn't brought me more joy than sex has. That's up in the air...
Lets just say his name was Bill.
When we last saw our hero Bill Cardigan(so named after, coincidentally enough, both his paternal and maternal grandfathers), he was examining himself in his modest home's bathroom mirror. After experiencing a brief disturbance in the quality of his sense of hearing, Bill has, with the aid of his life partner of some five and one half years, the comely (and quick-tongued) Margaret Sweeny, partially resolved the issue of his decreased auditory awareness. But as fortune would have it, the remedy of one relatively simple problem has in its very self been the opening curtain to a spectacle of far stranger concerns.
Bill stands before the mirror. Secure in his left arm nests the momentarily quipless Ms. Sweeny. In his right hand, Bill clutches the one foot square piece of red and white checkered tablecloth-like material that has just been improbbably birthed from his right ear.
"Well this has definitely never happened to me before," says Bill, "I really would've remembered some shit like this."
*****************************************
Uh ok. I'm bored now. see ya.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
dont talk about that upper button so calously! you tease!!
Y~!
JacobRock said:
theSpotlessMind said:
And now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to flog the dolphin to my newly signed Loni Anderson poster.
I now have a significant contender for new favorite masturbatory euphamism. The currently reigning champ is "roughing up the suspect." Off topic, sorry, but you never know when/where you'll find these jems.
"Flogging the dolphin" is one I've heard from way back so I can't take any credit for that.
But when election season rolls around, I'm usually off "polling the electorate"