Lingering Loopholes in Billy Blogspot's Insanity Defense
Call me Will, I shall. Call my tail lamentable, the rest of me unforgivable. Call me, but only if you're a beautiful, extremely tolerant female with little or no short-term memory, and then only if you don't particularly care about passive smoke damage, nor share any affinity with popular trends aimed at demonizing cigarette smokers and/or the tobacco industry.
Sure, they've lied consistenly for 50 years, traded suffering and death on the open market, but they also provide a valuable service. I.E. A relaxing, albeit self-destructive, way to absorb excess time. Should not be underestimated, this filling in the loose intervals of unknown and therefore terrorizing temporal units. Particularly for those of us capable of so-called 'unspeakable acts' when faced with time on our hands. Time to tension to pain to blood, on our hands.
Not that all smokers are potential murderers.
Not that all politicians are self-serving motherfuckers
Not that all passive-aggressives are so anally retentive that calling them assholes is taken as a compliment, however off-handed.
Getting back to my own troubles.
"There is, to date, no archeological evidence to support this."
I prefer women who speak more than one language, because I only speak one-half a language.
Experts in multiple fields discount this, claiming it to be a logical impossibility, owing to the 'fact' that there is no way to tell where one-half a language ends and the other half begins, since words tend to function in multi-dimensional ways, and are epistemologically variable, yet, at the same time, co-extensively significant.
Imagine a guy saying such a thing to you and not wanting to murder him?
I prefer a woman delivering the bad news on my misreadings on the nature of the universe, on the way things do and do not work out.
Women are much less strident than men
Women have no penises in the shape of axes to grind, for one thing. Their envy may be perpendicular in nature, but their compassion runs latitudinally, often across major fault lines and almost always directly through major shopping complexes, it's true, but their embrace has a global feel to it.
As if Mother Earth herself was squeezing the life from me.
As if death were as terrible as it's cracked up to be.
As if a life can ever be completely wasted.
As if.
May I smoke?
As long as you understand that the best smoke will be your last.
I can live with that.
"One day, China will be the world's Number One Superpower."
Hey, I can hardly wait. Meanwhile, a pack of butts in the UK costs about as much as the average Chinese makes in a month.
You should switch to a Chinese brand, which cost only one US penny a pack and will kill you quick.
Hard to argue with the Chinese, who are taking over THE FUCKING WORLD!
"We eat, drink and defecate, all in the same room."
Cool! Ever do all three at the same time?
Sorry! It's not that I despise the Chinese, just that I never want to be one. If I'm reborn as a Chinese, I will give up cigarettes and start smoking opium. I will live in Shanghai, wear a grey uniform and seduce disgruntled housewives who are considering plastic surgery. Unless I'm reborn as a Chinese woman, in which case I will sleep with low-level functionaries, write fiction and become a heroin addict.
"Come on, we want some underwear!"
Don't get me started. On the whole underwear issue.
Today, I stood at the window, smoking, watching first the fog dissipate, then the sun come out, then a sudden shower, then the mountains to the west, then the neighbors, then some guy on the street who could barely walk, then a bird, then it got windy, then it got cold, then I felt suddenly that I was having a seizure, then I sneezed, then the dog jumped on me, then I lit another cigarette. Then it was 4 hours later. And I thought to myself. Hey, you're finally learning how to manage time.
I wrote a poem about it.
My mind went dead
For a moment, at the window
So I smoked instead
I saw a bird take a turd
I recalled something said by an imbecile
That I'd overheard
I dreamed I was a Chinese, shopping for underwear
Why not? I can afford it
I'm a Capitalist Communist who doesn't give a shit
Freedom, it turns out, equals what we can afford to buy
I'm so happy about this
I could
Die
Sure, they've lied consistenly for 50 years, traded suffering and death on the open market, but they also provide a valuable service. I.E. A relaxing, albeit self-destructive, way to absorb excess time. Should not be underestimated, this filling in the loose intervals of unknown and therefore terrorizing temporal units. Particularly for those of us capable of so-called 'unspeakable acts' when faced with time on our hands. Time to tension to pain to blood, on our hands.
Not that all smokers are potential murderers.
Not that all politicians are self-serving motherfuckers
Not that all passive-aggressives are so anally retentive that calling them assholes is taken as a compliment, however off-handed.
Getting back to my own troubles.
"There is, to date, no archeological evidence to support this."
I prefer women who speak more than one language, because I only speak one-half a language.
Experts in multiple fields discount this, claiming it to be a logical impossibility, owing to the 'fact' that there is no way to tell where one-half a language ends and the other half begins, since words tend to function in multi-dimensional ways, and are epistemologically variable, yet, at the same time, co-extensively significant.
Imagine a guy saying such a thing to you and not wanting to murder him?
I prefer a woman delivering the bad news on my misreadings on the nature of the universe, on the way things do and do not work out.
Women are much less strident than men
Women have no penises in the shape of axes to grind, for one thing. Their envy may be perpendicular in nature, but their compassion runs latitudinally, often across major fault lines and almost always directly through major shopping complexes, it's true, but their embrace has a global feel to it.
As if Mother Earth herself was squeezing the life from me.
As if death were as terrible as it's cracked up to be.
As if a life can ever be completely wasted.
As if.
May I smoke?
As long as you understand that the best smoke will be your last.
I can live with that.
"One day, China will be the world's Number One Superpower."
Hey, I can hardly wait. Meanwhile, a pack of butts in the UK costs about as much as the average Chinese makes in a month.
You should switch to a Chinese brand, which cost only one US penny a pack and will kill you quick.
Hard to argue with the Chinese, who are taking over THE FUCKING WORLD!
"We eat, drink and defecate, all in the same room."
Cool! Ever do all three at the same time?
Sorry! It's not that I despise the Chinese, just that I never want to be one. If I'm reborn as a Chinese, I will give up cigarettes and start smoking opium. I will live in Shanghai, wear a grey uniform and seduce disgruntled housewives who are considering plastic surgery. Unless I'm reborn as a Chinese woman, in which case I will sleep with low-level functionaries, write fiction and become a heroin addict.
"Come on, we want some underwear!"
Don't get me started. On the whole underwear issue.
Today, I stood at the window, smoking, watching first the fog dissipate, then the sun come out, then a sudden shower, then the mountains to the west, then the neighbors, then some guy on the street who could barely walk, then a bird, then it got windy, then it got cold, then I felt suddenly that I was having a seizure, then I sneezed, then the dog jumped on me, then I lit another cigarette. Then it was 4 hours later. And I thought to myself. Hey, you're finally learning how to manage time.
I wrote a poem about it.
My mind went dead
For a moment, at the window
So I smoked instead
I saw a bird take a turd
I recalled something said by an imbecile
That I'd overheard
I dreamed I was a Chinese, shopping for underwear
Why not? I can afford it
I'm a Capitalist Communist who doesn't give a shit
Freedom, it turns out, equals what we can afford to buy
I'm so happy about this
I could
Die
posted by Bruce Leigh at 7:21 PM
1 Comments:
"Cigarettes and whiskey
and wild, wild women
can drive you crazy,
can drive you insane."
Traditional, as sung by Ramblin' Jack Elliot
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