The eleven-dollar Pride umbrella arrived today and my ol' Mother said opening an umbrella in the house is unlucky but I've already done that to see what it looks like. I figure if there's any other unlucky thing which hasn't happened already then fookin' bring it.
Meanwhile, election campaign revealed the mainstream has no values with any substance and no future with any content. So it goes in 2016.
Oh, the future will be great.
Yah, yah, greater than what.
You know the corruption and there's no point in flogging it after it's become nothing more than a bank-sponsored clown parade. Even Clinton's FBI interview was staged for effect.
There's some amusement in being the old crank who just doesn't get it but there's no way a buzz like that can last long when it's patently obvious who didn't get it and also they don't want to get it. The hot pistols never do.
They have no hopes and dreams but they haven't managed to burn them out of us so there's the thinking of recording some highlights from the Greece to Edinburgh sojourn. The trip had been an active inspiration to people and many, many people read about it here but it hit the rocks in Edinburgh with despair and heroin. No inspiration in that so the thinking is to go with a Greatest Hits approach by recording some yap videos, maybe interspersing some pictures, etc.
Note: heroin was something I intently avoided through my life and this was the first time it was ever right up in my face. It was not a good experience and it's not in my face now so it requires no further comment.
There's some grand Russian tale in fighting the good fight and then ending up on the rocks because everyone dies in their stories anyway. We don't want to play Doctor Zhivago because there's one primary aspect to his life: he found Tara but he croaked crossing the street to go to her. Nooo, this is not a bedtime story.
Sure it's all part of the Big Fish thinking and that's a situation because people haven't believed much of anything ever since I got sick in the first place. It was all true and seven years later I'm gutted so I'd like a better record of things than that.
This has nothing to do with suing anyone as the bastards who did it have to live with it since they know what they did and it's not my cross to bear. That's specifically regarding the insurance company creeps who ripped me off. My story is not with them, they only get in the way of it.
That's also why Hillary Clinton can kiss my bony ass regarding public health since medical insurance is what got me into this situation in the first place. I have zero reason to trust them or her.
When we have No Time for Stooges, what's left.
I see the Greece to Scotland run. Unknown if it's possible to bring an Albert Finney mastery of story telling but why not aim for it. If you don't aim high, why even show up for the game.
Perhaps this unfolds to going back to the blog record and making vignettes for each stage and (gasp) that sounds achingly like a plan but that would be alright. It also implies a standard since we don't want the narrator chopping and changing with Aluminum Hat Guy one time and Wizard Hat Looney the next. So, none of that.
The set is kind of bleak since a music studio is the guaranteed way to make the room hideous to everyone on the planet ... except musicos. Even Stephen Hawking can tell you this fundamental rule of physics: all music studios are ugly, riddled with wires and bizarre devices, and all of these things are black in color. That's any woman's dream for her house, right.
Answer: like hell it is.
So the set doesn't look like your idea of a studio even though it really is one for my purposes since all the musical kit is here.
Trying to make any music is brave but not much sense. All of the incisions are five or six inches long and they remove some significant beef so they're tight, they fookin' hurt, and they itch like a whole swarm of mosquitos. Not such a good vibe for making music. All that will pass but not for some days yet.
Mystery Lady is aces for coming up with tripped-out sets as she is highly-inventive that way and will use anything at her disposal to do it. We don't want to disappoint her when it's obvious after the fact adding a fake palm tree for $5.99 would have made the set so much cooler. She thinks of stuff like that and she's really good at it. I, however, suck at it so there will be a bit more thought on jazzing up the view.
Meanwhile, election campaign revealed the mainstream has no values with any substance and no future with any content. So it goes in 2016.
Oh, the future will be great.
Yah, yah, greater than what.
You know the corruption and there's no point in flogging it after it's become nothing more than a bank-sponsored clown parade. Even Clinton's FBI interview was staged for effect.
There's some amusement in being the old crank who just doesn't get it but there's no way a buzz like that can last long when it's patently obvious who didn't get it and also they don't want to get it. The hot pistols never do.
They have no hopes and dreams but they haven't managed to burn them out of us so there's the thinking of recording some highlights from the Greece to Edinburgh sojourn. The trip had been an active inspiration to people and many, many people read about it here but it hit the rocks in Edinburgh with despair and heroin. No inspiration in that so the thinking is to go with a Greatest Hits approach by recording some yap videos, maybe interspersing some pictures, etc.
Note: heroin was something I intently avoided through my life and this was the first time it was ever right up in my face. It was not a good experience and it's not in my face now so it requires no further comment.
There's some grand Russian tale in fighting the good fight and then ending up on the rocks because everyone dies in their stories anyway. We don't want to play Doctor Zhivago because there's one primary aspect to his life: he found Tara but he croaked crossing the street to go to her. Nooo, this is not a bedtime story.
Sure it's all part of the Big Fish thinking and that's a situation because people haven't believed much of anything ever since I got sick in the first place. It was all true and seven years later I'm gutted so I'd like a better record of things than that.
This has nothing to do with suing anyone as the bastards who did it have to live with it since they know what they did and it's not my cross to bear. That's specifically regarding the insurance company creeps who ripped me off. My story is not with them, they only get in the way of it.
That's also why Hillary Clinton can kiss my bony ass regarding public health since medical insurance is what got me into this situation in the first place. I have zero reason to trust them or her.
When we have No Time for Stooges, what's left.
I see the Greece to Scotland run. Unknown if it's possible to bring an Albert Finney mastery of story telling but why not aim for it. If you don't aim high, why even show up for the game.
Perhaps this unfolds to going back to the blog record and making vignettes for each stage and (gasp) that sounds achingly like a plan but that would be alright. It also implies a standard since we don't want the narrator chopping and changing with Aluminum Hat Guy one time and Wizard Hat Looney the next. So, none of that.
The set is kind of bleak since a music studio is the guaranteed way to make the room hideous to everyone on the planet ... except musicos. Even Stephen Hawking can tell you this fundamental rule of physics: all music studios are ugly, riddled with wires and bizarre devices, and all of these things are black in color. That's any woman's dream for her house, right.
Answer: like hell it is.
So the set doesn't look like your idea of a studio even though it really is one for my purposes since all the musical kit is here.
Trying to make any music is brave but not much sense. All of the incisions are five or six inches long and they remove some significant beef so they're tight, they fookin' hurt, and they itch like a whole swarm of mosquitos. Not such a good vibe for making music. All that will pass but not for some days yet.
Mystery Lady is aces for coming up with tripped-out sets as she is highly-inventive that way and will use anything at her disposal to do it. We don't want to disappoint her when it's obvious after the fact adding a fake palm tree for $5.99 would have made the set so much cooler. She thinks of stuff like that and she's really good at it. I, however, suck at it so there will be a bit more thought on jazzing up the view.
4 comments:
Opening an umbrella inside is only unlucky for the poor guy that you poke in the eye with the darn thing
Au contraire as my ol' Mother was quite clear that's bad, just like putting shoes on a bed. Never ever do that. I don't know what happens but it ain't good, whatever it is.
No shoes on the bed as the covers get dirty.
She had lots of them but they all had an antidote.
I thought it was something huge like that Argh Bogley would come and eat kids who did that. (That sounds a bit like one of the million or so Scottish monsters which ate children for misbehavior)
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