A Journal about Electoral Tyranny, the dullness of mobs, and diminishing returns.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Bill Hicks, Ascended Master
Bill Hicks' Final Interview
Tomorrow is Grandfalloonerry Day. What are you going to tell yourself to asuage your soul while you sit where They™ want you to, doing Thier™ bidding rather than hitting the streets?
Thought i was gonna bust out the Gary Webb movies again, huh? Pwnt.
A Fair(y) Use Tale code:
Hey, Cowboy Bob! Yeah, you, kid-cakes! Wanna buy a Hat?
It's utility 'round here is over. Finished, done, gone, out. Somebody should claim it 'afor'n ah give it to the freeballing UtiliKilt guy who lives up the hill. He'd wear it, too, and get away with it. W/e. Here's the keeper part.
Kurt said (insomuch as this particular nonanimate Golem speaks; which is to say "C_j flipped a coin") that the American Flag™ that he sat on for 4 (5?) years is up for the Patriot that can step up to claim both Flag and Hat. I think it's a 48-star flag; hard to tell being as it's folded proper. Hey, i was a trained civil servant once.
Ok, maybe not totally proper.
So, yeah. Still trying to sell our worlds over here.
I've multch'd more furniture than we've managed to sell or give away. W/e. Think today's sale is going to be a Moving Moving Sale. Like a movable feast, yeah? Except the other people don't know that we're going to show up at thier door with a bunch of crap to sell (and leave lying around if no-one's buying). I've already got a milkcrate full of random electoronics that Al Qu'aeDaffy would (allegedly) love to get a hol't of and a intercom mic/aux/VO unit loaded on the TrundleRound™. Think i'll pack on one each amp and tapedeck, maybe the conduit crate, and that fucking 10-column candleabra that keeps tripping me. Roll on down to Fremont, after cartoons of course. Leave it all in front of Lenin with a note that says "stoopid baby" under a large Prussian-pointing arrow.
It's going to be a spectacular day, People. Forward along the Shining Path.
