Get yourself armed, because here comes a fully loaded fun at home attack!

Today was a fun day. Why? I’ll tell you why damn it – Arms! And more specifically crossing arms.

Can crossing arms be fun? Hell Yeah it can.

Consider this: Most of the time your arms are NOT crossed. This means that once crossed you’ll have entered a unique and novel activity. And novels themselves are a form of entertainment, a good form of entertainment. So you’re in good company, and good company is one of the best ways to starve off loneliness – but so is starving of course, especially if you starve your way ALL THE WAY if you know what I mean?

Wow that just got dark. Must be because crossing your arms is a way of being defensive, and defense is the best form of attack, so we’re still winning the fuck out of this!

But it gets better. Consider also this: Some of the time your arms ARE crossed. That makes it a familiar and therefore comforting muscle memory – and memories are some of our best tools for recollection of good times! Times like eating your first blade of grass as a knock-kneed school boy or girl on the school yard or meter, and then chucking it up on your stable-kneed school desk and yelling “I’m a sick kitty, but now the grass is out, OUT you damn fool, and don’t you ever return, not until you’ve learned a thing or two, you got that. And it better be the RIGHT thing or two. Don’t you DARE come into my presence knowing a new thing or two if that thing and it’s friend aren’t PROFOUNDLY on point! You got that?” Yes sweet, sweet memories. And comfort is nice also. That’s all. And why should it be any more than that? Comfort speaks for itself. It doesn’t need to be defended, expanded upon, nor gazed backwards towards nostalgically. Comfort is strong. Stone walled. Rock faced. And plaster bellied. It needs not help, nor does it offer help. It is there. And that’s enough for it. And if you think different then get OUT you damn fool! I know the thing or two that YOU learned, and frankly we can do without it! Event the papier-mâché soul of comfort knows that!

Consider also this too: That’s right – Crossing Arms – officially declared FUN!

Woo hoo.

“You’ve been funned!”

Or maybe

“Take that, you’ve been fun attacked!”

Or “Fun At Home, it’s now in your loan sharks, um, fuck”.

Trust me, a brilliant, awesome, noteworthy yet insightful brand new badass catch phrase for these little truth explosions is COMING SOON!

Let’s hope at least.

Seeing as we’re hoping, why don’t we all just help it along by crossing our… ARMS!

Did you think I was going to say fingers? If so, wow. Seriously wow. What a world we live in. Think of all the things currently dangling off your shoulders than can be crossed, arms, fingers, it’s practically endless.

“Now you’re DEFINITELY in fun town!” (I’ll do better on catch phrases soon I swear).

The How To Have Fun From Home Files, And You Can Too!

Here at Fleeting Forever we’ve been dealing with the fleeting nature of forever for like forever, albeit fleetingly. It’s just what we do.

We hear about something that may affect our now, or our rest, and we jump on board swinging, dancing, and jiggin’ up a storm with the miscreants and the nut bag pokers of the day. That’s who we are, always have been, and always will be, unless we all die from some virus or something, ha ha, yeah right, I mean fall into a ravine and forget the code word that gets the ravine queen to appear and grant us the ability to float which we then take for granted while trying to float over a pool, before remembering we DIDN’T get granted anything and fall for to our deaths (why we chose an empty pool is any ones guess).

If you don’t believe that’s what we’ve always done, then take a look into our archives, they are immense and brilliant (just please only look at the ones which are good ones. Here’s a tip: if you poke in our archives and find something not good, you’re in the wrong archives fool, you need to go back to archival school!)

Well the fleetin’ and the foreverin’ has been challenged team. It just has. So we’re going full on again. We have to. Because it’s who we are. And also cause we ain’t got nothing better to do. And hope you ain’t got nothing better to do too which means you have time to read this crap. Cough. I mean genius. Smiley face.

So everyday, or so, depending on what else is distracting us, we’re gonna share something with you that you could be doing for fun.

So without further stupid nonsense that I haven’t edited out for god knows why, whether your normal existence has been ruined because of the thing OR the new thing that will probably hit over night, here is - today’s thing you could be doing for fun .

Drum roll …. … ….

Vacuuming!

Now I know what your thinking… “We already knew vacuuming was fun Dave. Of course we did. Vacuuming is rad. You get to suck up live spiders for fucks sake. Then you get to feel like god for a moment, a mighty god, a god who giveth and taketh life with the mere suck of a tube. Then you get to feel guilty for using your newfound might to immediately kill. Then you get to remember that spiders, while scary, do play an important part in the ecosystem, and by removing one, you are toying with the delicate balance of nature. Then you get to imagine its little spider family, little spider wife, cranky spider uncle, cute spider ten thousand eggs hatching any moment into cute little spider babies all though your favorite pair of pant’s crotch region. And THEN you get to pull your vacuum apart to find that fucking spider corpse so you can light it on fire in punishment for the ten thousand spider bites your nether crotch regions will soon get and/ or for making you do laundry! YOU BASTARD! So hell yeah vacuuming is fun. We knew that already Dave, you dick!”

And I agree with everything you thought there dear readers, but I’m here to tell you that there are even more great things about vacuuming than even that, things including but not limited to…

- Vacuuming up bugs that have less interesting and fulfilling social lives than spiders and therefore less wives or husbands, and less babies on your skin.

- Vacuuming up bugs with MORE interesting social lives, out of spite, bitterness, and jealousy.

- Vacuuming up things that aren’t bugs at all, like bug poop, bug carcasses, and bug shit. 

- Doing poops on bugs then vacuuming that up.

- Pooping on the Vacuum cleaner itself.

- Shitting on that poop.

- Pooh-poohing me for turning this into an avalanche of poo jokes.

- Pooh-Poohing me for greatly misusing the word “avalanche”

- Pooh-poohing me for saying “avalanche” was the word I misused, not “jokes”.

Yep Vacuuming is officially declared – FUN. Enjoy it while you can. And if you don’t agree, then go put on your favorite pants and take a nap, see I’m not spiteful.

Lips - A Poem

Michael smiled as the condor chewed off his lips 

He’d learn to regret that 

At the next

“Smile if you’d like to train condors to not chew off lips” meeting 

Want to flip it...

Drinking Drinks with Dave: Oh life

No way

Wait (ha ha) just a god dang minute. I just heard a rumor, and I’m sure it’s  just a rumor, but your know the ol’ sayin’ “it a rumor it be, then truly, I’m not joking buddy, getting stung from a bee f’n hurts dick” and I’ve BEEN stung from
a bee, and BY a bee, so I believe this shit. So the rumor my friends is this - Elephants remember at least the occasional thing somethings

“No way” I hear you yell.
“It’s a rumor” I reply.

Now. See that beehive? The one over there? Want to insert it into your urethra?

No you don’t!

The lesson is clear.

Elephants are MORE than anyone has ever imagined before. This isn’t the end of this. You can be sure of that. (Ha Ha) God dang right it isn’t...

Waity issues

Wow. That’s all I can say. 

And by “all” I mean “just the start”. Which is almost always what people mean when they say “that’s all I can say”. Isn’t that fucked? If we’re all lying about that, then what else are we lying about? 

- Our weight?

- The likely wait time before your product is back in store?

- What the Wights in GoT were waiting to weigh, should scales eventually be invented, assuming they hadn’t yet been? 

Fuck that. That’s not the world I want to live in. A world of LIES! 

Luckily I don’t live in that world. I live in a word with elephants. And Hell Yeah, that’s ace. 

Yesterday we talked about elephants and about how they’re great, and we promised that was that. But it turns out that WASN’T that. Shockingly there was more to the story. 

That’s right, today I’ve learned even more great things about them, and by them I mean elephants, and by learned I mean remembered, and by remembered I mean recalled the time I personally observed and philosophized on these important elephant things excessively enough to form strong, intelligent, and unique opinions on. 

Things like.. 

- Elephants, Hell Yeah, they’re great! 

- How great? 

- REALLY great, that’s how great. 

So that the end of it now for sure. 

To sum up

- Elephants are DEFINITELY great. 

- If you’re lying about how long the wait is for someone’s product to be back in store then it’s probably not because scales have yet to be invented.  

Boom. Case closed. 

Grey Matter

Hello everyone,

Random unimportant and mostly irrelevant post from Fleeting Forever CEO Dave Tieck here. But, something occurred to me just now, and it's something that few have probably thought, or will ever think, or will ever have the foresight ro think - which sucks, and is shit, and possibly even sucks shit. But I don't want to even think that, because fuck that, but also do not fuck this, because this matters, for now, but probably not in a way that will grow over the coming days...

Elephants, yeah man, how good are elephants?

Yep. That's it. I am positive this will be the end of this matter. A truth has been told. That's rad. Hell yeah it is. And that's a small, yet profound truth, we can ALL enjoy.

Just to reiterate...

Elephants, yeah man, how good are elephants?

Hell to the fuck YEAH!

Idea postured.

Idea debated.

Idea DONE.

That's the world I want to live in.

And that's the world I DO live in. A world we all live in. A world which has elephants. And if you ask me, and I assume you do, then this is the only answer I will ever give...

Elephants, yeah man, how good are elephants?

Hell to the fuck, to the oh mother fuckin' yeah!

That's the end of that awesome chapter... 

The Bog - A Poem

‘Wow, that stinks so bad it could melt a tool shed’

Thought Dave, to himself, after taking a particularly smelly bog. 

Then he spent a full fifteen minutes pondering upon why on earth a melting tool shed had popped into his mind.

And what would a tool shed melting look like. 

And why on earth was he STILL sitting on the toilet. 

Then he wasted another ten minutes writing this down. 

And missed the end of the show he was watching. 

It was really shit. 

Or bog. 

Why isn’t that a term by the way? 

“Have you seen that new movie”

“Yeah

“What did you think?” 

“I thought it was bog” 

That’s awesome.

I’m totally going to start using that. 

One of THOSE days, man

One of THOSE days man - with Guest blogger - “Two handed” Jimmy McYeep

Have you ever had one of those days where you’re just like “oh man, oh hell yeah man, if I had a bus man, woah, the things I would do! Man” 

You know those days? 

Cause man. Oh, um fuck yes man, yep, I’m having one of those days man, and if you’re one of those people who’ve had a day like that man, then you know it dude, you know it don’t ya? It’s fuckin’ rad man. It’s full on rad like a hat in the wind that’s your size on a day where the wind is your speed in a town where it’s a no hat no service type of vibe, and the kites that are a’flyin are telling ya that the speed of wind thats blowin’, well that’s your speed of wind, and it is flyin’ high my friends, so this is your type of town, and you’ll get that service if ya want it, but you don’t know if ya do, because the wind in question hasn’t told you WHAT it is blowin’, now has is man? 

Yep, it’s rad I’m telling ya. I’m beaming. You’ve been here right? Wow a day where I get to dream about a day where I might have a bus one day, man, that’s the dream man! 

There’s so much going through my mind right now. Just so much man. Like...

- what kind of bus would it be if I had a bus? 

- would it be any color I wanted? And if not could I paint it man? 

- would it have lots of seats? 

- or lots of space seats may have been at some point? 

- or might STILL be one day?

- oh hell yeah man? 

And that’s just the start dude. I means maybe it’s even before the start man, because that’s not where the joy ends man, no way that’s where it ends, the end is far out in the distance, like a horizon that can’t be seen because of the carnival of joy that’s descending towards the cliff face of fun, and you know you’re gonna get to ride the rollercoaster right off that cliff man, because your daddy owns a piece of the pie in the pie store that’s sponsoring the cow competition and those are benefits you can take to the bank, with the chance to walk right up to the manager and say, I get service today, because see this hat, it blew in just like I said it would man! That’s how far from the end we are man, because this rad journey of awesome times has barely even begun man, and if you’ve had one of those days man, you know the other part of the joy wave I’m surfin’ to the pie shop man, I’m surfin’ a swelling pride of also getting to imagine what I’d DO with said bus if I ever got to have one man, things like...

- wonder who chose this chair configuration? 

- think about how much paint it would take to paint it a different color should there be a color I’d prefer enough to climb off my high horse and trek down to the paint store and jump off my high horse and unleash my paint purchasing skills to the levels of aplomb I’m most capable of, man, regardless of horse size?

- Consider drivin’ it somewhere? 

- The bus that is, man. 

- Consider NOT drivin’ it somewhere?

- The horse OR bus that is man?

- Regardless of height of either? 

Hell to the yeah down by the beach side kite store man. The possibilities are ENDLESS. Endless like a Pandora’s box of pent up bath tub scum around the edges of a well worn magic chest of hope that you’re holding up high man, in both hands, or maybe even only one hand man, I’m not judgmental. Who could be judgmental on a day like this dude, cause I’m having one of those days man. 

Yep one of THOSE days! 

Because oh man, oh hell yeah man, fuck yeah, I get to think about what I’d do if I one day had the chance to one day own a bus man. 

Fuck yes. 

I hope you’re having a rad day like this too man, or at least you’re flyin’ a kite or something, because rad days come in all sizes dude. Just like hats in the wind...

Also anyone want pie? If so, give us a buzz. I know a guy. 

Yours sincerely, 

“Two Handed” Jimmy McVeep

Fun fact

Fun fact: or as I prefer to say...

Enjoyment Truth: because enjoying stuff is rad, and every bit as good as having fun, and truth is like a fact that is real! And enjoying a fact that turns out to be real, means your enjoyment is real, and when your enjoyment is real, then dude, now we’re having fun. And who doesn’t want more fun? Check these folk out...

The second one is better right? Yes it is!

So hell yeah - here’s an enjoyment truth that will blow your mind: ready?

I bet ‘Sorry I’ve blanked on your name’ - would be a badass NAME to have! 

Kapow. 

Now THAT was enjoyment truth that shits all over fun and factual shit. 

Cause think about it. Every single time there was an awkward running into of two acquaintances YOU would be the star of the show. 

You! 

Because they’d be all like ‘sorry I’ve blanked on your name’ 

And EVERYONE has awkward running intos with acquaintances from time to time. EVERYONE. 

That’s means. Yes yes. I know some of you are getting it already. Congrats if you’re one of them... but don’t feel bad if your not, even I’m not, and I’m writing this...

But that means 

EVERYONE will be talking about YOU (at least occasionally, in situations which are awkward).

Boom. 

Explosarific. 

Now you’re not just tasting success, but you ARE success. 

And I know what you’re thinking. ‘If I want to BE success, why don’t I just name myself ‘success’. 

Well I’ll give you three reasons why.

1. You don’t name yourself, your parents do.

2. You think everyone is talking about success? Ha ha. Hello Mr or Mrs Naive

3. Yep, that’s right, I just named you Mr or Mrs Naive. That’s your name now. Cause that’s how naming people works. 

4. What’s success if you can’t taste it, and if you’re tasting yourself you’re just a normal person, because your mouth is FULL of you. So yeah, if you’re tasting the yourself you’re just a filthy norm. And who wants to be a filthy norm? I wouldn’t even want to be a clean norm. And the only way to take a filthy norm and turn them into a clean norm is to douse them in monkey urine. And do you know how they acquire monkey urine? With a spatula. Um ‘spat’. Um ‘ula’. Um Gross. 

5. Except me. I want to be normal. And I think I’ve proven my normality with this blog.

6. I might even be the worlds MOST unique normal dude. 

7. Fuck yeah! 

So to sum up. Have you just been born or are thinking of being born soon? 

If so make sure to have your parents name you ‘sorry I’ve blanked on your name’. 

It’d be rad. 

The middle name and/ or surname are irrelevant by the way. Although I recommend ‘Meredith’, ‘Drew’, or ‘Queen of Scots’ for both. Depending on your feelings about Scots. And how you think you’d feel about Drew Barrymore marrying the fictional character Nancy Drews. Personally I’m all for it. But I’m just me. Well 99.9234% me, and 0.2145% the worlds leading mathematician. Obviously. 

Also if you know what success tastes like, can you please describe it for me, I’m thinking of starting a lollipop company, and I bet if we had that flavor we’d be rocking in no time! And by rocking I mean ‘enjoying truth’ and wow, that a fun fact I could take to the bank! (Or ATM, depending on YOUR definition of fun :) 

Highway Robbery - A Poem

Here’s a poem. Which is awesome. Because poems are literature. Which is a word meaning ‘literally words’. And almost everything truly great ever said ever was said in words. Except all those rad speeches made by Mumbler The Great of Macedonia. Who everyone found super motivational, until the one day someone finally stood up and said ‘I’ll say it, I don’t know what he’s saying, do you?’ And everyone in the room let out a huge sigh of relief, followed by ‘I thought I was the only one’ collectively sighed by all present. And it was ON that bubble of air formed from that very collective sigh, that the first Hot Air ballon managed to reach the stratosphere for the first time, killing all on board, cause oxygen tanks hadn’t been invented yet. But it was those hero’s accidental death that in part LED to the invention of oxygen tanks. Yes. All because of words. 

Highway Robbery - A Poem 

Samantha, a future actuary, was literally born DURING a highway robbery. 

‘This is highway robbery’ yelled Samantha immediately after taking stock of the situation. 

‘Woah’ Said the highway robbers, well ghapsed, well, no that’s not right either. Um collectively sighed? No. They ‘woah’d’. That’s what you do when you woah. Why doesn’t that word properly exist yet literature? You dick. Well I’m making it happen. 

‘Woah’ they woah’d. Kapow!

As they lowered their guns.

And climbed off their horses.

‘She was just born this moment and she can already talk?’ They said in deep southern drawls. Southern being the most popular drawl of the era. Although apparently it would soon be misused in Macedonia for speeches. Which is why drawling is no longer popular now. 

‘You can have her for 10 gold bars’ replied Samantha’s mother. 

‘10 gold bars!’ They yelled, I mean drawled, loudly. 

‘TEN gold bars?’ They reintegrated. Having forgotten the word ‘reiterated’ momentarily.

‘TEN GODDAM GOLD BARS!’   

‘Why that’s god damn a regular back road fair price!’ replied the highway robbers. 

It was an unsatisfactory conclusion for word play lovers everywhere. Some were so mad they called this whole endeavor highway robbery! Kapow! 

The end

 Thank you words.

Eve my ass