So anyway, yeah, I feel like I'm stuck and dangling. I haven't pissed my pants yet, but give things a little bit...I'm still confident it'll happen. I refuse to turn my blog into a forum for listing all my complaints and grievances - or to just bitch and moan. But, having said that, I suppose I find some minuscule measure of relief in letting it be known that things are, oh I don't know, what's the word I'm searching for...
shitty.
Yeah that's it in a nutshell. Things are shitty, with continued shitty throughout the day, followed by widely scattered shitty by evening. Our 10-day outlook shows no signs of relief from the shitty, with slight chances of "oh hell no" and "this is all just fucked" later in the week.
There, I feel better already. I know that's vague, about as vague as a game of Scrabble with nothing but C's and X's. It's your play - but you just sit there, looking at the tiles thinking, "Okay...what the fuck am I supposed to do with these?!" I suppose you could be playing Klingon Scrabble, in which case, awesome assortment! But alas, that's not the case. But that's okay, I like vague, I'm okay with it. In fact, I excel quite gloriously at vague most of the time. Okay fine you want a little more, okay let's see.
I'm not Hindi, not by any stretch of the imagination. But in some small measure I believe in karma. Imagine that karma was a real, tangible thing. Something you could touch and smell and taste. In this case imagine feeling like some higher cosmic force in the universe is tossing giant balls of karmic shit on you from up above (or wherever) and no matter what you do, no matter where you hide...they find you, smother you in their putrid mess, and leave you to walk the earth, reeking of filth. Of course, these are karmic shit-balls, so obviously you've done something to deserve them. Damned if you know what, but look out, here comes another one. You can see your name scribbled in it just before it smacks you in the noggin. You say to yourself, "yep...that one's mine alright!" Unfortunately, you left your mouth open a little too long, so you got a warm, juicy taste of it.
shitty.
Yeah that's it in a nutshell. Things are shitty, with continued shitty throughout the day, followed by widely scattered shitty by evening. Our 10-day outlook shows no signs of relief from the shitty, with slight chances of "oh hell no" and "this is all just fucked" later in the week.
There, I feel better already. I know that's vague, about as vague as a game of Scrabble with nothing but C's and X's. It's your play - but you just sit there, looking at the tiles thinking, "Okay...what the fuck am I supposed to do with these?!" I suppose you could be playing Klingon Scrabble, in which case, awesome assortment! But alas, that's not the case. But that's okay, I like vague, I'm okay with it. In fact, I excel quite gloriously at vague most of the time. Okay fine you want a little more, okay let's see.
I'm not Hindi, not by any stretch of the imagination. But in some small measure I believe in karma. Imagine that karma was a real, tangible thing. Something you could touch and smell and taste. In this case imagine feeling like some higher cosmic force in the universe is tossing giant balls of karmic shit on you from up above (or wherever) and no matter what you do, no matter where you hide...they find you, smother you in their putrid mess, and leave you to walk the earth, reeking of filth. Of course, these are karmic shit-balls, so obviously you've done something to deserve them. Damned if you know what, but look out, here comes another one. You can see your name scribbled in it just before it smacks you in the noggin. You say to yourself, "yep...that one's mine alright!" Unfortunately, you left your mouth open a little too long, so you got a warm, juicy taste of it.
Mmm...taste the sticky, gooey poopiness! You wash your mouth out, but you're still walking around, looking like Pigpen - disheveled and dirty, with little squiggly lines swarming around you. You swat at them to try and make them go away, but it doesn't work. Now you're covered in shit, and you're flailing your arms about in public like a crazy person. Notice all the people hastily making it a point to go the other way?! You know, no one really throws an actual ball of shit anymore. Why not? When is the last time you saw a really good one...Airplane!? Is there a point; am I going anywhere with any of this? I suppose that's for me to trudge through and you to only passingly give two-seconds-worth of a shit about. Guess I just needed to vent a little - again, vague, I know! Now let's see, where was I...Cxxcxcxcc...ooh, and a triple word score too - yesssss!!!
3 comments:
At least it's not diarrhea... yet.
diarrhea, cha cha cha...
diarrhea, cha cha cha...
repeat ad infinitum
uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh...
Post a Comment