Wednesday, November 18, 2009

I can taste the bitterness

I feel what you're saying. Oh brother, oh yeah I feel it. I taste it. Like a bad slice of cheese inserted between the two most perfectly crafted slices of bread.

God bless you.

Not that I believe in god or that blessing a creature could change anything at all, but you sneezed, so fuck it, i'll give in to convention for a change.

Oh shut the fuck up. Seriously?

No I mean it, seriously?

I was just trying to be nice, honestly, I didn't mean anything. I didn't mean to be an un-happening misinterpreting has never been. Get off your fucking pedestal. No I am not living in the past, because I have no time machine, I am merely expressing an opinion on your opinion.

Ok, so I am the epitome of the problem I hate. While hovering over fruit trays i cant help but wonder why shoe boxes are still called as such even while being used as fly corpse graves?

And if that is not explanation enough then I feel sorry for you, oh Margery, yes I do, because your name is not modern at all, like if you were to go down to the art gallery of modern art gallery worthy art pieces and someone said 'hey man, this piece is from margery' their friend would probably say 'margery? doesnt sound modern to me?' and then their friend would probably say 'how can you possibly judge someone's moderness by a name given to them by an unaware parent, now who is being a judgmental objection your honour'.

Ok then fine.

I will let the tent fill with bugs. If it frees the outside world, who could possibly complain?

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