Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Ikea sells Cod eggs in a tube.

Apparently it's good on wheat toast and crispbreads.

A young lady saw this hanging from the wall today and put half of the stuff she was going to buy, back down into the bottomless crate she was rifling through.

A fancy phone is only worth the dialogue that you have with other people that communicate with fancy phones.

You can't buy good conversation at the App Store.

I needed an iPhone just so I could work this out. It's just an FBI listening device anyway.

Where are we going?

Use by dates, used by dates, to get another rung.
You rang?
Ring ring ring?
Should'a put a ring on it?
I haven't spat my head and lung butter into the all seeing pie of the internet in a while.
I mean, so what.
I took a fucking holiday from my holiday.
You don't give a shit.
Everyday is a holiday, put the fo'fo away, and skeet shoot a hoe today, etc. etc.
What sort of enlightening experience could I convey to you with me sleeping on a couch for a while, taking the same old drugs and drinking the same old cheap beer that I do when i'm at home, a few towns away.

Maybe this is what I needed to tell you all.

Oscar Wilde is quoted as saying "A poet can survive anything but a misprint".

You know nothing but what you already know, when someone tells you something that changes that dusty lightbulb in your head, you are merely reinforcing facts you already know.
Too bad for you.
You are born with the gift to construct your own reality around what you know to be true. If this truth were to be delayed with a foot pedal or some generic drug, your truth is communicated to others by the feelings of the Holy Communion. You move on up through your gutter junk, your filthy self righteousness, squeezing cheese into jars of Vegemite for Americans, just to spite your undying love of patriotism. The eons of time pass you by like lens flares as you sit at your bus stop, waiting for your number to come up. The driver of the bus is not named Godot.

No one stopped to stare at the scene that was caused.
If you think about all the emphasis on Ikea and the one company that produces all, flat packs your lives into little Legoland facsimiles of each others lives, and provides Swedish food to the obviously uncultured Australian, it gets scary.
The Germans obviously weren't the master race.
And who doesn't find some blonde chick in wooden shoes with a windmill for a house hot.
Is that even Swedish?

Who said if you sit on the fence for too long it breaks and leaves you in the thick of it?
Fuck, now I'm getting Sweden and Switzerland confused.

Double Dutch?

The wars of today are fought by brand allegiance, taxes and media slander.
We will never have another World War, because the Boer War never finished.
People don't even remember the bloodshed of Agincourt.
Places just become memorials for other peoples clouded memories.
Medals just become mementos of other peoples bloodied fallacies.

We didn't start these fucking wars, why should we end them.

It's not your fault the hot dogs don't taste like the photo.

No comments:

Post a Comment