The Thief,The Turkey, The Punk and his Butter
Blah,blah,blah...I still got nothing. I should probably leave a disclaimer on this that says "WARNING: This blog is going nowhere and by reading it, you are allowing the author to steal a piece of your day and use it for his own nefarious devices." (I have decided I will use the word "nefarious" in every blog I write until I get my game back. Feel free to keep track at home! Fun for the whole family!)
Seriously.
I'm going to take these few minutes you give to me, and I'm going to save them up and use them to help me get to work on time. I'll tell my boss..."I'm not late...I've got dozens of unused blogging minutes. I'm going back in time, motherfucker!" And then I'll make a dramatic hand gesture like magicians do, and wait for everything to go in reverse, or for Doc Brown and the Delorean to come roaring out of the wall, or for those wavy lines that happen when they flashback in a movie and I will just stand there in my full-on time wizard pose smiling smugly. He will then point out that I'm an idiot. And then I will punch him in the neck with my glazed donut still in my hand and it will leave a big, sticky, grease-gray welt on his Adam's Apple. And then security will escort me from the building whilst I try to flail loose from them, kicking and spitting and swearing...because I REALLY can't think of anything better to do.
Whew.
The only thing worse than writer's block is being bored and having writer's block.
I think I'll just make a series of statements and you can choose to react to whichever ones you see fit. I'll make sure they're all true because I believe in journalistic integrity. Not my own, mind you...I just believe that it exists...like El Chupacabra and Ninjas.
1) I drove past a house this morning whose front lawn was completely over-run with wild turkeys. I mean...there were lots. I can't help but thinking the home owners might call an exterminator, there were so many. It would go something like this in my world: "Ace Pest Removal. What kind of ...Uh huh. uh-huh. 10 of them, you say? Uh-huh. Thanksgiving. Right. No,Ma'am. No chemicals. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Gobbling until all hours,huh? Uh-huh. Yes. We'll... Uh-huh...No Ma'am. We don't have any stuffing-based extermination methods. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay. We'll be right over. (*click*) FRANK! Grab The Baster!"
2) There was a frost last night, so I guess winter has officially decided to make a go of it again this year. I feel very pouty about it. Like maybe if I had a temper tantrum, God would change his/her mind and just throw a kegger this year instead. It could be a really long kegger, if he/she was worried about filling up the time. I'd be okay with that.
3) I still haven't got around to filling out my change of address cards from the Post Office. I get so little mail that it has had absolutely NO impact on my life. But somewhere out there....there is a bureacrat who thinks I'm living somewhere I don't. That's right...I know how to stick it to the Man.
4) Speaking of which...Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols is now selling butter in a commercial over in England. The overwhelming disallusionment I am feeling is offset only by the fact that the product in question looks all golden, melty, and delicious.
Then:
Now:
I hate irony.
Who are the Sex Pistols? I think I'm too young to know. You're so much older than me. These are the times when that generation gap feels so wide.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That's a sick burn, right there! Muaaaaahahahahahahahahahaha!
By all means steal my time with your blogging minutes because you see if I had a damned thing better to do I wouldn't be reading blogs... ;p
We don't really care about fabulous content you know, we just like you to bullshit with us the way that only you can ^^
@GSG: I know, sometimes it's a wonder we connect at all with all those months of age difference between us.
@IC: I hate burned toast!
@kij0: Lucky for you, bullshit is my specialty.
That commercial gave me chest pains.
Turkeys are evil, rat bastards! Somebody should be loading their musket! Maybe they cut the phone lines, and the inhabitants are hostages in their own home!! SAVE THEM!!!! Isn't it your duty as a Ninja? ~IC
(yeah. I'm off too.)
@IC: Holy shit! I just totally responded to a "Bwahahaha" by Anonymous assuming it was you! You're SO the "BWAhahaha" Girl I didn't even think about it.
Bwahahahahaaha!
Turkeys ARE evil...but I can't alk about my plans out loud. ;)
Actually I was impressed, but now I know the secret:D ~IC
Again I say, smoke a j.
;)
@Sweet Herald: I think you would say that in just about any circumstance.
"What should we do with this dead body?"
"Smoke a j!"
"Will you please extinguish my head?"
"Smoke a j!"
That actually works remarkably well.
sure if you see exterminators as the ghostbusters of the real world. and why are there no pictures of said turkeys? hmmm suspicious ....
you mean johnny rotten's not dead yet?
@Char: Well not physically. From a "selling out all you ever once believed in" standpoint, I'd say he's flat-lined.
laugh. well, no, but with writer's block? Yah!
"El Chupacabra and the Nefarious Use of Time Travel". Sounds like a great title to your next novel.
2) I guess if you can't beat the fascist regime you join 'em.
@floyd: That would be a great name for anything, if you ask me.
ps: I hope that fucking cow stepped on his foot.
3) go rebel
4) it is. Yum *rubs tum and grins*
@foxx: I'm willing to forgive the abandonment of all punk ethos for some delicious buttery treats.
@Kurt I'm not sure if that makes you shallow or grown up *grin*
@foxx: Either way, it's deplorable.
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