I recently came upon the discovery (after that if was all sticky…hahaha,get it ? sticky ? because I came on it ? laugh, I’m being funny now !!), that I want to update my blog in one or all of the cases below :
a) Something meaningful happened recently and I want to talk about something completely different (like I’m doing now)
b) It’s waaay beyond “late night” , going into “really early morning” and I’m “still awake”, instead of “just getting up”.
c) I’m hammered…
Now that I’ve gone through the above, I’m just stuck wondering what sort of literary-nobel-prize-winning-awesome-as-hell masterpiece I’d produce if I combined all items in the list….best not try it, lest I dethrone all contemporary writers, har-har-har.
But seriously though, I should write more often – it gives me peace and transports me to a secluded little pocket sized universe, where there’s just me, the sweet, sweet music of TOOL and the methodical clicks and clanks of my keyboard.
Bullet point No. 1 Fiery death upon the filthy humorless bastards
This has been festering in me for some months now and I really hope one of the below mentioned reads this and laughs – that will make my retribution all the more tasty. On to my point though, PRO-ROCK’s april first joke was that TOOL were coming to Bulgaria – having been at work all night and thus having 0% brain capacity, this made me scream like a little girl, hyperventilate, drool and foam at the mouth a little bit. Upon finding out this was a joke, I proceeded to hyperventilate, drool, foam at the mouth a little bit and scream like and angry god, ready to bring a couple of plagues back into play…
Seriously….what sort of humor is this – I mean, I’m into morbid jokes and shit like that, but wtf ?! When I proceeded to calmly and knowledgably express my feelings via email* to the aforementioned PRO-ROCK magazine, they decided to not dignify me with a response.
* Contents of said email :
Dear PRO-ROCK,
U FUCKIN G FCUKS ILL FUCK YOUR UNBORN BABIES !!!111!1
Kind regards,
A fan
That day a lot of things went through my head and finally I devised this brilliant scheme (humbly so) – I’ll burn their office, burn their homes, burn their relatives ; then I’ll wait until they have children and burn them ; when their children have children, I’ll burn them as well – you can see where this is going, I don’t need to expand further (though my initial chart details the scorching of over 25 generations). You might call that risqué, perhaps even crazy – I call it justice…
Bullet point No. 2 Rambleramblerambleramble
I could go on and on, about how awesome Sonisphere was, but that goes without saying.
I could write about my personal life, as this is after all, the INTERWEBZ, but that’s like what….a sentence? Sentence and a half?
What I were to write about work and education….not pissed off enough at anyone lately…so…that’s a dead end.
That’s about it really…my life seems reduced to long periods of work, followed by short bursts of free time, all of which I spend either with friends or grinding away at some game, with no prospects of anything better along the way. Apropos, I’m glad I don’t update my log often, else I can see myself in 30 years in a dark room writing the draft for my next post down.
Room. Interior. Décor – Desk, laptop, chair. Space – barren. Lighting – no interior or exterior light sources, windowless, faint light from laptop monitor. Man sitting in front of laptop, overweight, bald, wears old shirt, boxer shorts. Scene.
American plan, en face, man is thinking.
FUTURE SELF
I really should get onto finishing this post, my viewers are waiting and this week I hate more than 5 hits…
End.
Since I’ve now spent a total of 21 minutes writing this, here is a short ending – fuck, and more specifically fuck all things in existence ._.
