Land of Diskgrinder

The shit in the river is different every day.

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May 02, 2009

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Nearly got the state of the nation

July 27, 2007

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

July 14, 2007

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.

hey, just realised the world has intertube connections

August 13, 2007

Blogging from Albonia 1 , first stop on the grand tour of my holiday. This off my phone. Very difficult. Like this has taken about 20 minutes to write. So not much from here, then. Everywhere in Albonia is nearly underwater because of the inclement weather. Wading not walking. Laters. 1 Not its real name, and not the one I gave it first.