Not only have I red it, I green it. Or yelllow (fav color). Loved it. I think my daemon would be a bear. The little eastern black bear. You are thinking to ingratiate (not trying for irony, here, but fearing that I've found it anyways) yourself with poor spelling. I make myself laugh. Free American education. You get what you pay for. Looove your new reading glasses, btw. Are you sure you'd not have a raccoon daemon?
You're including some pretty crap content these days, I notice.
Well, I must off to work to set up a bunch of jobs on scheduler so we will know how the coupons did over the weekend.
speak not of coupons, for they are the devil's work. a black mass of shit festering in the gloom of a marketer's myopic misunderstanding. Be-gone foul thing, thing that decays in the twilight of forgotten cities high on the frightful straits of Leng!
Well, be that as it may ~ the great unwashed masses appear to like the 30% off one item for what it's worth.
I was just mentioning to somebody that I was once, as a child, stuck in o high forsoothy for, like, two weeks one summer when I was a kid. Had been reading 'A Boy's King Arthur'. You don't wana know what comes over me when reading Huckleberry Finn.
In kid-literature, the designation 'a boys' normally means it's likely to be good. At least that has been my experience. It's only 8:47 PM Here. Dusk.
Back to my current book. 'Kindred'. Turning out to be one of the best books I've ever read. And that's saying something.
Google Analytics points out the continuing struggle to win the hearts and minds of the parvenu colonials (more green=more hits). Need to find some way of attracting the mid-west. Marshmallow-stuffed turkey ? Because I know you have fairly disgusting diets out there in the nasty blank miles of between. Or maybe I should find god? (Stuck to my sole). Rant incoherently for a while on plainly daft theories of ontology and epistemology? (How do I know I'm evolved from slime-mould?). Or is that too up its own fundamentalism? So if you have a friend (or a backwoods flange of interbred cousins you don't talk about) in the dead miles between cities, drop them a carrier pigeon and get them to access my blog (with their steam-driven Babbage engines , or hay-built abaci), let some slightly dingy British rain into their golden-corn lives. Also, it appears I'm not appealing to the redneck constituency. What's the matter with y'all? Too busy fucking your sisters?
I am diskgrinder, and I am larger than an ant, but smaller than someone taller than me. I'm also a damn sight cleverer than someone far more stupid than me. I can speak 7 languages, 6 of which I made up myself. I am spiritually indeterminate - somewhere between an agnostic and an atheist, should they be sitting quite close together. I have no beliefs except the firmly held one (as it's slippery) that you shouldn't believe everything you read in a phone directory. I take laudanum as a pick-me-up and take a snide remark as a put-me-down. I am diskgrinder, I am all of me.
Pessimistic, miserable drizzling cynics. That's us, a nation of jealous, pasty complainers with bad teeth (well done you, good teeth, but fucked-up healthcare , I know what I prefer - having stained incisors over being a self-medicating trauma victim any day - I'm sorry, sir, you're not insured for involuntary decapitation, have a nice day ). We talk about the weather because we have weather (and a history). And whilst we invented concentration camps and genocide , we didn't feel righteous about it - if there was one reason the British Empire had to exist, it was to destroy the Nazis, and then fuck off into sunset obscurity. To vote (by a landslide) for the dissolution of our evil back in 1945 . But we are still envious, unpleasant snobs. We are still sanctimonious prigs. Joy is anathema to the intellectual Englishman, our forte is complaint and guilt, shame and desperation. You look up, we look at the pavement (it's not a fucking sidewalk). I have made some...
what?
ReplyDeletenot telling
ReplyDeletecheat
ReplyDeletethat's the thing I edited.
ReplyDeleteI don't usually do that, but the homunculus insisted.
Hey, have you red Philip Pullman's Dark Materials trilogy.
If you have, what would your daemon be?
Mine would probably be a stoat (just because that's a nice word)
Not only have I red it, I green it. Or yelllow (fav color). Loved it. I think my daemon would be a bear. The little eastern black bear. You are thinking to ingratiate (not trying for irony, here, but fearing that I've found it anyways) yourself with poor spelling. I make myself laugh. Free American education. You get what you pay for. Looove your new reading glasses, btw. Are you sure you'd not have a raccoon daemon?
ReplyDeleteYou're including some pretty crap content these days, I notice.
Well, I must off to work to set up a bunch of jobs on scheduler so we will know how the coupons did over the weekend.
Laters, S
of course, you must know the content of which I speak. . . not yours.
ReplyDeletecrap content? Bollocks. I wouldn't have posted it if I thought it was crap.
ReplyDeletespeak not of coupons, for they are the devil's work. a black mass of shit festering in the gloom of a marketer's myopic misunderstanding. Be-gone foul thing, thing that decays in the twilight of forgotten cities high on the frightful straits of Leng!
ReplyDelete(been reading too much HP Lovecraft lately)
Good luck with the scheduler thingy.
Well, be that as it may ~ the great unwashed masses appear to like the 30% off one item for what it's worth.
ReplyDeleteI was just mentioning to somebody that I was once, as a child, stuck in o high forsoothy for, like, two weeks one summer when I was a kid. Had been reading 'A Boy's King Arthur'. You don't wana know what comes over me when reading Huckleberry Finn.
In kid-literature, the designation 'a boys' normally means it's likely to be good. At least that has been my experience.
It's only 8:47 PM Here. Dusk.
Back to my current book. 'Kindred'. Turning out to be one of the best books I've ever read. And that's saying something.
Bye for now.