UNSPEAKABLE BOREDOM. BORUS. BORING. BORDEN. BOREALIS MAXORISUUZZZUSSS. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZNOOOOOOOOZZZZZZZZZZZZE EARTH, G A P E !!!!!!!!!
I am on the point of completing my estimated taxes for the first quarter of 2017. Or bursting all the leptons in my body by Willpower I burrow in Wonderbread. Time has stuck….the last tick was in January… my phone calendar offers views by Aeon, Age, Era, and Epoch only (in the late Devouring Period, fish became obnoxious)
this is very profound stuff youre looking at the best people still figure things out by thinking hard about the words to popular songs you too should abandon all attention to the so- called “real world” (feh) and from hereon act only based on cues and secret messages from your fellow bloggers
I can only foresee the final result of complete nullity is complete chaos a semantic plasma in which associational speed reaches infinity and transmittability finally touches down at zero GERONIMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I was for no reason looking at old stuff and discovered this, which seems to show I was much more crazy with boredom at this time three years ago than now - don't remember why. For those who don't care, lines 4-5 are from Marlowe's "Doctor Faustus"; line 12 is from the Firesign Theater album "I Think We're All Bozos On This Bus"; and line 14 is ripped off from Fran Lebowitz