That's likely because I'm just reading the wrong stuff. Could drink up some more water as well. There's lots of mint having sex and growing all over the place to really fancy up glasses of water or tea.
Okay-- I finished that website. That was a few weeks ago. It's actually done. It was a nice run doing that robot-stuff. Excess repetition but I got through it. To spill 200 for two years of webhosting when it-- feels null--nill, it doesn't seem like the best investment right now.
Well what can ya do? Would enjoy to get that online
yet also don't want to stamp up and down harsh on my own feet, wondering why cash got thrown down the drainers.
Because $200 is enough to get some parts to throw together a little airplane.
Sure, there'd be a bit of some scrap-galvanizing and maybe use a toyota-wheel for
the steerer.. easy to find though.. lots of those mini-toyotas and loads of scrapped volvos to turn into a workable airplane for under $200. Just scrape those horrible bumper stickers off regardless of what parts are going to be used.
Anyway, I'm so grumpy-- I don't even really mind it though.
I'm probably furious, I imagine
Why should I be upset as to a way that I feel like some dodo right now?
Well.. I ain't sure. (fib)// Illusion of the state of the world
At least that https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJ2O9lXCChw was finished up
but I considered that a miraculous rarity. Active on that bicycle again
happy to burn carbs and all that nonsense
Lots of worms and slugs in the soil lately. More than I've ever seen before. The worms are quick-movers, too.. fast-betties or whatever they are called. (That's a Louisianan term. Some old-fade-faced man who was a prized fisherman had always had a styrofoam container of worms which was marked 'Betty" upon it. It's a long story---- and don't bother asking.)
The slugs are pretty slow,still, of course, but boy the worms are fast. I wanted to say that that Fukushima 'splosion (that we all'r apt to've forgotten about quick-like) rolled round the world.. and by doing so, put into us a collective mental-state of all the sorts of dashing, flailing inanity and bonafide, guilded regression that the occasionally-grumpy people pick up upon noticing** -- and who knows, maybe the nuclear disaster sure as heck did just that.. but it could have sped up the worms as well.
[**the unliberated, non carefree scum-sucking jackamimes! Slogan them beyond retribution.Convert ye, convert ye!]
So the worms are getting the good of it, and meanwhile, as the toxic debri and splosive tarnish cycles on, still, the collective circus ingrains deeper treads of further inquisition. Each generation has its own inquisition and is usually blinded from its plausible harm by that facet that it is causing some liberation. But me, not being an on the field reporter, and being a hectic mudslinger, myself, will only further speak about such through some character-expulsion. To say the wrong thing even in humor means some form of eradication, and thus none cartoon like Rocko's Modern Life shall ever exist in about the next 18 years until at least the present collective inquisition is replaced by another. I'm not even sure what kind of horrendous stuff that Rocko's had ever done wrong, but considering it was decent, and funny, and lighthearted and a good cartoon, there must be some way that something very wrong and over-the-lines was propelled in to each show.
The present inquisition I would like to call unity through uncertainty. But you can call it Julia.
That does not peak any prime interest though. Garden tools and cashews peak higher interests. And studies in normalizing beneficial breathing techniques, and de-tensifying the personal realm of human concept-games--- but those appear like topics of some sort of squirrel salad when trying to bring them up in this blog. Also, getting newer and better shoelaces for a certain pair of boots exceeds all of those self-inventive projections about generational culture studies. My only validation in hope for any future is that there will be people continuing to have fun with sling-shots and little dinguses will continue to enjoy going onto abandoned building sites and having good good-hearted degeneracy called natural playfulness. The Curse of the Yuppie with self-convinced good-intent may very well destroy the common decency of being lovingly stupid enough to accidentally make stupid decisions and to happily also do good things maybe by accident and maybe even on purpose.
So, so long as there is some sort of edge.
Also: The Universe must some how continue to appease my static claims
of what I consider to be decent expression of patterned and sensible value.
Because of whatever hog hognosis squirted up a decent alley, there is the appeal of credibility
that integral and steady practice of Pranayama, good and true, overrides what would be claimed as external, collective tensions.
Anyway I am sorry to derail such as some deathswig of swinely, black-plagued rum attacking itself upon some common street wino. If it is fast-worms we are about to get into then fast worms it should ought to be.
So I was waiting for some Jolly Jumper Jack and a few sun flowers to sproot up out of the soil and the worm that slid on by was going like at least 4 mph.
Sort of stopping to myself and rubbing my eyeballs
to make sure I saw what I thought I saw, I looked again and saw that wicked worm cruising along. The pressure was on to make sure that this was not some sort of baby snake wearing a worm suit.
There have been situations before of suck trickery... much as the trick of validating that any late-night talkshow host is human and not an android.
Well of course they are androids because by god who could ensue to tolerate and not break down completely having to handle so many ego-faced celebrities evening after evening. It was some while after Carson where no human could actually handle the transition of hollywood types going deeply from semi-modest to irreplaceably notwithstandable. And so they hired the only kind of thing that could handle facing such payrolled faces for motion-picture bile, and that is an android. Even the Craig Ferguson-bot, who had a hint-more of human endearment replication, almost drown-suicided itself in an in-building bathtub, by inflamation of sootery guests.
But alas, it was no snake disguised as a worm such as an android disguised as a late-night host...
the worm was real and quick and fast.
But before I lost interest in the first slippery slider, another fast worm shot by my feet, bellowing the other direction.
And this sort of thing has been witnessed all late-spring now... fast-worms and lots of slugs... and it may be toxic-radiation encouraging these slugs to become more seeable and these worms to pick up pace, or it could just so be that these worms have started to find deep inspiration... a deeper inspiration to pick up their speed and get their jobs done. Prime motivation. Worm unions. This crisis is not threatening.... but for $46.50 an hour, if anybody needs any marketing expertise for causation to make up some speed-worm kind of tabloid threat, I'm up for it.
You'd be better to laugh at the news without dark humored disdain for once anyhow.. and some danger-worm spree-situation might be that pick-me-up that the world needed.
Probably not, but most effective changes seem to come out of nowhere. Like sink-holes.
The worms could be working very quick in actually creating a nice and fine sink hole. Or many. I, for one, find that to be exciting, and can say that most others secretly probably think the same. Say a giant, quick-worm-crafted sinkhole plops down some dozen blocks in Charm-City Business district in Guff-town, Carolina or Now-Juck-City--- meanwhile, these fast-eddies will probably just only help out my garden in the long run.. so whatever happens, it's some better ending than that fat-footed Belle trying to convince everyone that her fat, nasty foot actually really fit into that slipper.
Oh--- that's Cinderella--- not that beast-ravager from that other story.. Getting those stories mixed up.
Well it's still a better ending than that fat-footed Cinderella trying to con the public into thinking that her gangreen-ensuded toe-larpus ever fit into those magical slippers.
She shoulda tried Herme's shoes.
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