Liberal ha Social ha Media ha

I just thought I was going to say everything I was going to say with that last post.

But here's a story about the girl who never stops bitching, in binges, but they're purges?  I bet the paleo peeps didn't keep eating disorder types around for veeerrry looooo-ong.  Anyway, this is not a story about DNA spit handshakes nor hernias of the brain (eating disorders) but about a boy, who didn't live alone in the city, and who didn't own a gun, and who never slept again, 'cept for when his broken orthopathic histology demanded it, with a gun to his head, "if you ever want to see your legs walk this earth another day..." dot dot dot.  This city is killing us, not like frac country is safer, nor the remote parts any less suffering from dire weather, so what's the point?  Where do we have to go?  Mars?  Was it some white teenager or your reflection I saw, look up at me, for a split second, with a face that said, "I've been caught" or, equally possibly, a face that believed it was alone?

That wasn't rhetorical and neither is my upper back, it's real, motherfucker, real tired of that fucking memory foam mattress?  And I just can't wait for the fucking moment when we find out that memory foam is just a far-fetched NSA spying device.  We'll have to sign in just to hop into bed before it's all over.  Thanks, Edward Snowden.

And they say that apocalypse is coming or it will come or it is about to come and they are prepared for it to come and I say, what about has already come or came a long time ago, you foolish fools, horse, I'd like to introduce you to the barn door, hey wait! (turning around both ways real fast) wheredhego?  Look around, Fire Island! I like how I cutely believed that you actually had a choice in the matter, that someone could've stood up, but didn't, like y'all weren't all bent over a big fucking barrell, like that shit wasn't going to happen, even if the entirety of Brazosport County was against it and it got protested about somewhere by some people.  Go fuck yourself, Jaded N. Tired! Instead of worrying about what world-destroyers own your air, why don't you go think about the (ahem) impending apocalypse, k?

Living in the subjunctive is a dangerous preposition and eventually our only code will be the plausible deniability that lives in our code of grammar.  Ask PM if it cares about what could've been or what might have happened.  It will say, for sure, that it does, since it is technically a person which means it can technically have emotions and an intelligence, which technically means it is a citizen of the Untied States, which means it def has the right to vote and to the basic constitutional freedoms, just like fetuses do and first-time offenders don't.  Zero tolerance?  Oh, that seems like a good place to begin, the origin always is, ask any wayward mathematician (if it is positive or negative or neither, and then get ready to gouge your eyes out with boredom.)

So, what were you asking me about again?  You get me so distracted, TMZ!  It's like choosing between a donut and a bagel, between TMZ and CSM; one is pure, unapologetic badness and the other is probably still bad for you but def less bad than the other.

I don't have to be drunk to write like this, just satisfied and leisurely.  I'm sure everyone here is envious.

I'm sure everyone who's read this far gets my sarcasm or ironic fatalism, look honey! I just made up a new movie genre!  So, I don't need to explain my automatonica (wait, is that a band name?)  Who can keep up?  I barely know any culture any more and I feel like I should be embarrassed about that but fuck, I have only this small little brain, I can't fit too much bullshit type stuff in there, I haven't the real estate!  I wish I could be just like you, Illuminati, but I'm just too antisocial, I guess.

I want to write a book about the anonymous hacker group, and it would be totally flattering, but I'm still scared they'd fuck my shit up.  That's right.  I'm afraid of anonymous, but I'm more afraid of gun nuts and god nuts and all other kind of nuts, except the real kind, 'cause that seems the most sincere form, I suppose.  I know that's real teenageryish of me, but what kind of a person would I be without a little ennui and a lot of anxiety?  You know you knew I was crazy before I begged you to marry me.

She asked me if I've seen any good movies lately.  Ha!  I've heard about people watching good movies lately, that there are some films that some people still enjoy, and even first hand accounts from people I trust, so I'm sure there must be some validity to the claim, but no, I haven't seen any.  Can I ever not be so wordy?  I know it is really tedious.  Words come out of my mouth slower than they do my fingers, probably 'cause my thoughts don't have to pass through my carbon filter that direction.

I've lost intellectual curiosity.  Cengage beat it out of me.  It is a fault thing.  I am still vaguely upset, I just have a hard time remembering what it was about.  The world can crush us both for all I care, I'd gladly drown to death with you in the ocean of split molecules, the only thing that can break our bond, taking jagged last breaths and clinging together before floating away in a ringwoodite sea, she's once, twice, three times the ocean.  Doesn't take a Darwin to know we come from the water.  At least us two anyway.

Now I kiss your reading, smiling face and go oil myself up, warm and wait.