Howdy everyone.
So I have little enough to say, but a certain eponymous someone told me that it was my civic duty to provide input for this blog. Not wanting to be lax in my Oedipal obligations to the community, I hastened to post at the first possible moment.
Now that I'm here, I don't quite know what to say. What goes on here in the desert cannot possibly mean anything to the uninitiated, and I don't want to bore you all with an epic portrait of the Phoenician landscape.
Suffice to say that I am far more tired than I ought, and the proportional amount of work I have completed thus far is by no means significant. I stand somewhat castrated before you all. One ball left. The right one. I am the abject figure prostrated at your stern, judgmental feet. I'm like a woman. Ugh. What a fate.
I feel as if perhaps this sententious conversation grows far too partisan, and perhaps a tad bit too phallic, to continue. And so I shall end my rant. Here you go Ms. Kling, this one's for you. I hope you don't begrudge me your shattered anonymity.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
See? So much better than silence.
Even if you are a bad, sexist person.
You know, whatever.
I decided to comment on this piece by Mr. Krumpak because two words entered into my brain after I finished reading..."PURE GENIUS" But if Mr. Krumpak is a genius, then...I can only ask those of you who look at these comments to bridge this apocalyptic zoroastrian comment to some piece of sanity...which I've lost...maybe.
"ARE YOU A COLLEGE STUDENT?"
If only that angry little Mexican boy had read this post.
Seriously, Mac, good times in Mesa. Much, much preferable to silence, as Laura has said.
Abject figure, one ball left, eh?
You're like a woman? Hardly.
Like Napoleon? Perhaps...
Post a Comment