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I'm amazed by people who learn new things. My poo offering levels are too low at the moment for learning things myself. When the levels pull out of their dive I'm going to learn to speak Japanese so I can understand the lyrics to Boris songs. I just know they're going to be quality. I keep my expectations high because I love the exhilarating rush that disappointment brings. My understanding is you can just load the old noggin up with all sorts of stuff and it'll never fill. I heard recently heard that the human brain can store something like a trillion gig of memory... makes me even more pissed off that I've forgotten my password to log in. Just added another invention to my pile of failures.
I've slotted it between the spring loaded nose hair trimmers and my line of inflatable cooking utensils. Tonight I mourn the passing of another poorly thought out gizmo. Farewell, Baby's First Deep-Fryer. Onward with the pedal powered ceiling fan! PS. Can you post script a blog? PPS. Why isn't there Tandoori flavoured yoghurt? I suppose I'm supposed to have something a bit more substantial than little quips and playlists in a blog.
I could explain the name of the blog, but I really wouldn't like to undermine anyone's intelligence by explaining myself to people, animals or robots from the future who have already figured it out. I'm not worried about undermining my own intelligence as such because I am aware that my irrationality and inability to stay on subject undermines any attempt to convey an I.Q. of above double digits. Separately, I'm beginning to actually think having a functional brain has become unnecessary. The Missus was telling me that something like 50% of 18 year old girls don't know that it takes the Earth a year to go around the Sun. Why remember that useless shit when you can Google it. I can see that. Personally I need useless facts and archaic words to escape from dull conversations. Baffle the dullard and disappear in a puff of ennui, like a squid from a really boring fucking shark. A wobbegong perhaps...? I don't know whether my depression caused me to stop masturbating or whether it was the other way around, but what I have learned that tears make for poor lubricant. The good news is I have two hands to carry groceries now and nobody escorts me from the dairy section. |
About the authorLouie is not as smart as he is tall, less sensible than he is bearded, and as green as he is blue. Archives
August 2016
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