The first of many “thought provoking” rants for 2008
Driving, shopping, eating, working…somewhere, somehow, they all got chewed up and spit back out, they don’t taste like living anymore.
Don’t you see what it’s like in this deranged wearing, blender of a world?
Everyday is an agonising ordeal, like balancing a pot of scalding water on your head while people whip your legs and butt..
You think I’m sick? Well the only disease I’ve got is modern life, a schmuck busting gauntlet of inefficiencies and misery, that’s one long parade of;
let downs,
put downs,
trinkle downs,
shut outs,
freeze outs,
sell outs,
numbnuts,
ninkenpoops,
and nimrods.
All making everyday as much fun as waxing a flaming pontiac with your tongue,
where even if you do luck into the possibility of some fleeting pleasure, like say;
if some nymphomaniac telephone operators with the muscle control of Romanian mad slappers agree to a little strip air hockey, it’d be over before it starts. Because some vale lacking, feeder reeking, cab jockey slams his checker up your hatchback, and the cab is owned, by some piñata spanker from a Santa Ria cult in Wakampa, who starts shaking chicken bones at you, and gives you a boil on your neck so big, all it needs is Michael Jordans autograph to make it complete.
And even with all this, with all this, I still drag my sorry butt off the ceiling every morning to stick my head in the reaping machine for one more day. Knowing when it’s time to flash the cosmic cardkey at those pearly gates, I won’t be in the coffin anyway, because some underhanded undertaker sold my heart, liver, pancreas and other sorted goods, to that same Santa Ria cult.
So does anyone really wonder why anyone is hanging on to sanity by the atoms of their fingernails, while life dirty dances on their digits? And is it any real wonder, that I seem deranged? – Duckman.
