New vending machines in the hall, I see.
Back in the day, nacho cheese shagging meant something. Not any bloody more. Damn vending machines.
Shagging Burn Holes
Somebody fire the bloody maintanence staff. Me second best coat is burned to threads. Some crack opera singer--damn horns on his bloody helmet--spilled mustard on it, so I sent it to get washed. Came back as less of a coat and more of a bloody spool. They said to look on the bright side: the mustard stain is gone. Mugs; I like stains, I just don't like globs of shagging mustard spilling all over the place.
I wouldn't be so worked up, except I "lost" my best coat during the Civil War. Damn you, Grant.
I wouldn't be so worked up, except I "lost" my best coat during the Civil War. Damn you, Grant.
I'm torn, mates
There's this bird walking around. Tall girl. Other times I saw her and chatted her up I found her to have a sharpish tongue and a wit to get her in trouble. There's a word for that. I'll think of it.
Anyway, pixie got her wisdom teeth took out. I seen it before, she got all the signs; puffy face, slack jaw, pale cheeks, lack of wisdom. People think wisdom teeth and actual wisdom ain't actually related, but they got that wrong and I've seen the proof.
I known a lot of cats got their wisdom teeth out. Bloody articulate ones, you know. Boys that'd talk crocs into newts kind of verbage described it to me. My point is this girl is obviously in a lot of pain. She looks bloody silly, and I been biding to zing her anyway...but she's worn to shagging euphamistic bloody rags, supposedly.
Part of me says I should be nice to her. Rough is rough--it's cruel to add to it. Most of me knows her shagging cheeks are full of gauze and the novacain and bloody worn off. The pixie can't zing back. Grunt a bit, yeah. I could say I was below taking advantage. But I have this thing for honesty, you know.
Anyway, pixie got her wisdom teeth took out. I seen it before, she got all the signs; puffy face, slack jaw, pale cheeks, lack of wisdom. People think wisdom teeth and actual wisdom ain't actually related, but they got that wrong and I've seen the proof.
I known a lot of cats got their wisdom teeth out. Bloody articulate ones, you know. Boys that'd talk crocs into newts kind of verbage described it to me. My point is this girl is obviously in a lot of pain. She looks bloody silly, and I been biding to zing her anyway...but she's worn to shagging euphamistic bloody rags, supposedly.
Part of me says I should be nice to her. Rough is rough--it's cruel to add to it. Most of me knows her shagging cheeks are full of gauze and the novacain and bloody worn off. The pixie can't zing back. Grunt a bit, yeah. I could say I was below taking advantage. But I have this thing for honesty, you know.
Snow the size of bloody quarters
There's nothing like waking up to rain. It feels like six and looks like six, but it's eight or so.
And if the lilacs are blooming outside, and it gets cold so the rain turns to snowflakes the size of bloody quarters, there isn't anything more surreal, and still gorgeous.
It got colder, and the snowflakes shrank. But then it got warmer and started raining again. Before eleven in the morning, we lived through two out of four seasons.
Live it up.
And if the lilacs are blooming outside, and it gets cold so the rain turns to snowflakes the size of bloody quarters, there isn't anything more surreal, and still gorgeous.
It got colder, and the snowflakes shrank. But then it got warmer and started raining again. Before eleven in the morning, we lived through two out of four seasons.
Live it up.
Dirt Juice
I woke up feeling shitty--my throat was all snarled up mostly, but my shoulders were bloody sore too. I wanted something for it, and I found the infirmary, but there was an "under construction" banner over it--one of the corners was loose and flapping about. It said "navigate away from page?" under that. I wasn't up for that shit.
After a bit I found another door that said "Alternative Infirmary" on it. The door was locked, but only a little. I found a jar of stuff; its instructions said to mix some of this powder in with hot water and drink. I been drinking it all morning. Shit tastes like dirt, but with a little mint. I read the ingredients and that's apparently what it is. It's bloody compost. For the alternatively infirm, far as I can tell.
I love this junk. Going to drink it for the rest of my life.
After a bit I found another door that said "Alternative Infirmary" on it. The door was locked, but only a little. I found a jar of stuff; its instructions said to mix some of this powder in with hot water and drink. I been drinking it all morning. Shit tastes like dirt, but with a little mint. I read the ingredients and that's apparently what it is. It's bloody compost. For the alternatively infirm, far as I can tell.
I love this junk. Going to drink it for the rest of my life.
Red Shirt
I been in this weird-ass place for a couple days now. I was standing in line for the Pepsi machines--gawd, I hate Pepsi--and there was this stickler standing next to me in a red jumper. Looked shook up; I gave him a pull off my joint. I figured him for a downer, but he said he was just recovering from being downsized.
I didn't know exactly what that meant. He made it sound everyday, though, so I sucked off some smoke. It was my turn at the machines. I realized they were Pepsi. Gawd, I hate Pepsi. Couldn't the wankers spring for bloody equal opportunity soft drinks? Coke--I ain't had one since 1906, but I hear they're still good--or even the bloody ass-end conventional brands suck less than bloody Pepsi.
For some reason the other cats in line got to be staring at me. Gawd, I only hacked the bloody machine a few times. Besides, they could get all their bloody loose change back again, and all the sodas were free at least until someone came and picked them up again. I took a few. Caffiene is caffiene, right?
I didn't know exactly what that meant. He made it sound everyday, though, so I sucked off some smoke. It was my turn at the machines. I realized they were Pepsi. Gawd, I hate Pepsi. Couldn't the wankers spring for bloody equal opportunity soft drinks? Coke--I ain't had one since 1906, but I hear they're still good--or even the bloody ass-end conventional brands suck less than bloody Pepsi.
For some reason the other cats in line got to be staring at me. Gawd, I only hacked the bloody machine a few times. Besides, they could get all their bloody loose change back again, and all the sodas were free at least until someone came and picked them up again. I took a few. Caffiene is caffiene, right?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)