Jan. 18th, 2007

robinbloke: (Default)
Story fragment: Waking up )
robinbloke: (Default)
yeah so I'm awake again. Ah the clocks ticking past once again. bah to it. Bah to it with industrial strength man-eating bratwursts on top.
Where's my time slide dial. Where's my selectometere. Who designed this reality again? I want my deposit back, I paid at the door and my ticket stub vanished when I bought my first drink.
And they ssaid it would be free.
Damn them.
Damn their eyes. Their lying little custard filled eyes.
I can't even remember the show we're meant to be seeing here, plus it's too cloudy today to see the sky. Blue? Blue? Bah, If I wanted a sky I'd want one like a bloke print.
Yes bloke. Bloke McBloke from the land of bloke. Blokeland. Right the Blokeacoaster, sail the bloke green sea. Dig for wild blokes in the outbloke with your adjustable blokealiser.

Purpose is overrated, personally speaking. Outcome is eventually lost. Backlash is a result of not wearing a seatbelt.

They went to good homes. There was carpet cladding on the walls. Roof to roof furnishing and lighting where-ever you walked.
Design your own music video and then live in it, I say.
I say I say. Did you hear the one about the three mute saxophone players and the harpist? You did? Oh well.
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Ahem.

Move along, nothing to see here, it's all under the doormat next to your housekey.

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