I know this in unofficial but I have a friend in the US who is a psychiatric nurse who works at the UCLA and she rang me two minutes ago to say that Britney suicided in the toilet about half an hour ago. My friend is not the sort of person who would ring me and tell me it had happened if it didn't. Half of me says wouldn't this be great if what I was writing was a world Orble exclusive and the other half of me says I really shouldn't write this. I don't know what to think. I just hope she didn't give my phone number to people like Oprah. I want to live a quiet blogger's life.
If there is one thing that I won't consider doing it's hypothesizing. There's nothing I like less than lessons that aren't learnt, ladies and lads. What could happen is part of so much nasal gazing. Looking down at others who are looking down at you is like looking up your own skirt. If there's one thing that gets up my skirt it would have to be my hand. Looking down my nose is a business that is all about the bottom. Line for line this post is part and parcel of delivering letters. After I've been to the urinals you'll know why they call me "Tinkle toes". I'm a real man. Of letters and warts, I'll take tablets. There's a great many thins to be gained from denying yourself. From this you can infer that I've fallen off. Let me just confer with my fingers. I'm one of those types who just can't stop at a red light district. It's go go, dancers. Standing at a dancefloor is a big part of my mating ritual. Dancing is a bigger part of my laugh. Standing and dancing: verbs.
I'm here to tell you that whatever I tell you will be telling. You can probably tell that if you're told something by me it's okay by me. I can tell you that I'm here to tell you that. I can tell you have been told because I told you so. I told you so you could tell that when I'd told you you could tell. You could tell the way I told you that what I tell you is telling. Tell me, what have you been told about abusing yourself with a megaphone? I thought I told you that to do that would be telling. It's telling that what I told you about that has not told on you. The bell has tolled and it was for you. I told you that. If I told you something telling you would have to pay a toll. I have and you will have to. I'm telling on you that what telling things I had for you, and that were told in private, haven't told on you in public. Abuse of oneself with a vocal enhancement contraption is highly suspicious habit. I won't tell you again that I'm telling a tale told by an eared it. I have two and they hear only what I have to tell. I have to tell you that I only hear what I won't too. You might be able to tell that the time it takes me to tell the time is the time it takes. Tellingly, the time is told till time takes hold. Ears and eyes: telling.
If you're anything like me you'll never compare others to yourself. No one stacks up chairs like I do. You, yourself, know like no other that knowing others is like knowing yourself. No way can anyone know anyone else like you know yourself, you know, yourself. You know yourself like I know no other can. Others, no less like you than you yourself, like you no less than you like them. Liking yourself is a known way to know that others like knowing you too. You too know that. Know that and you, and others, will know that nobody else stacks up at the end of the day. At the end of the day, no one known, there's no way known, knows the unknown. It's unknown that. It's unknown that no one doesn't have one of these: equal and opposite. Now that the unknown is known, and by no less a you than you, you can sit on top of your stack of cheers and laugh.
It's a great light relief to realise your ineffectiveness, effective immediately. That's why we should all take up the practice of throwing a log into a net. Bounce a few ideas around about the state of the world, while you're at it. If you don't mind, I have some rather heavy reading to do. A little matter of a thousand pages of classic literature to get through. When I finish with a book you simply won't recognise it. Now back to my little topic and, patting my head while patting my tummy, I can safely say that Power and Philsophy are opposite because I said so. I said so because I thought so. My mind, you see, is just like some magnificent sifting device, not dissimilar from a hand bucket with lots of holes. I could be quite wrong, but I think we know that's not about to happen any time this week. Fall over while cleaning shit from your shoes to realise your lying in a treatment plant. That's enough of that. Power and Philosophy: opposite? Potentially. Depends. The comfy incontinence arse-pillow for the bony-arsed blogger with bags of bread: bought bountifully.
If there's one thing that makes me sit up and take notice it would have to be a sign that says "Sit up and take notice". I have an uncanny ability for reading the signs. I won't sit up or take notice without being instructed to do so. You can go a long way with literacy and numeracy. My foot, I can't put my feet on the seats. Feet go on seats as arses go on the floor. My arse is without flaw. My feats on the other hand. When I start whistling that's the sign that my lip reduction stitches have healed. Nothing makes my lips whistle like a can of beans. Cracked whips are a sure sign of dry skin. I'm not going to beat myself up over it, but I love self-flagellation. All the signs say that signs are a sure sign of signals. If you've ever sold sea shells on the see-saw you'll know how hard it is to have your arse pounded. If it came down to your arse or mine I'd back mine in. I've put a lot in to mine and I'm not going to back out now. Chances are, if you're reading this you're sitting up. I have noticed your fly is undone. Yours and mine: undone.
When it comes to jugs or cans, we all come down on one side or the other. Walking into a bar is a mistake I've made rarely. From that you can probably surmise that I come down on the side of cans. There's nothing finer than a couple of nice bubbly ones. The thing about jugs is that there's usually so much to go around. A can on the other hand and one on this hand is handsome. A jug on the other hand would require an extra extremity. It's not extreme to say that whether one likes cans or jugs says a whole lot about the very character of an individual. So, on a fine day such as this, crack open your mind and have a little think about what it is we find oursleves so stuck in: reality. It's refreshing to see so many who have poured over the information on hand. Nothing is more revealing than everything. On a sobering note, cans and jugs: opposite.
If I was free to freely admit anything, I'd freely admit that I feel free to admit that admitting things freely is like free admittance: frequent. Like a man with a battered banana frittering away his life freely, I am a real pineapple. If I wasn't inclined to wax wearily with worn-out words, I'd get to the point and be perfectly blunt. To be perfectly is impossible. Being is all about becoming. To be absolutely frank, I love beans. If there's one thing that gets me hot around the pants it would have to be beans. In my line of work - and that's a lot of waiting - patrons either opt for frittering away there lives with pineapples or bananas. One or the other. Being as I am, I'd never look past something with a hole in it. You might say that offering up myself as bananas is my modus operandi. You don't have to keep your eyes peeled for my slip ups; I freely admit them. Banana or pineapple? you can't be both.
If there's one thing in this world that counts it has to be a calculator. There aren't many things that count as much. What counts just has to add up. What doesn't can simply be out of batteries. Nothing fixes something like a good battering. Others things that count include fingers and toes. I'd be a different person without my own complete set of those. I could count on one hand the number of fingers and toes I've lost over the years. They really count a lot. I've lost count of the the things that count. Still, you can count on something to count anything. One thing that doesn't count is sheep. They just don't count. If they could, they might realise that they are next. Knowing you're next is the last thing you could ever want - except when you do. Accept when you are. Resist. If you discount what I've said you'll be better off. It's not unfair to say that. Count and discount: opposite.
If there's one thing I can't stand it's a two-legged chair. Furniture should have three legs, at least. At most, furniture should have four legs. At most. At least, most does. The most the least does is the least the most does. Mostly, chairs are sat on but sometimes they can be worn like a hat. If a waiter ever shows you to your hat you'll know what I mean. I mean that hats are usually soft and forgiving like cushions. Cushions for the bottom are known as arse-pillows. The least a waiter can do is take your coat. Unless of course it has the bottoms of trousers sewn onto the hem. Sitting starkers in a seat is a silly sight. The most I can do now is shove off. The least I can do is state the haemorrhaging obvious. Least and most: you decide.
It's a far cry from crying but laughing is more or less the same. The same is more or less the same as different. It makes no difference to me that the same for me is the same for you. It's the same difference, entirely. Laughing, the belly bellows, feels fairly fine fairly frequently. Crying is more or less different, entirely. The two are entirely different. In other words, the same. Same and different, if I may be maybe so intellectually bold, are construction workers' knitting noodles. It's a vexxing issue that demands our undivided sandwiches. You could scour this post all day and it'll always come up smelling of noses. There's not a splinter in it. Words, so fit for human consumption, are deeply adequate when it comes to airs and graters. That reminds me. I'm not going into it here. Needless to say, needless to say. Crying and laughing: opposite.
If there's one thing that I can't bear, it's children. I simply can't have them. It's a feeling that has been growing inside me for many years. Heightened by a growing awareness of myself, my reluctance to bear children, you might say, has been forced upon me by my nature. Nature has it that, motherhood is for mothers and mankind is very much so. Vey much so is vey much like extremely. Extremely unlikely is it that I'd ever be able to stand a tripod with two legs. It's no coincidence that I have often been compared to a two-legged stand. Often I have been likened to a pair of trampolines wrestling over a linoleum hand-jacket. Kids are just a scapegoat to some but, this just adds up. I don't think I'll ever be able to take kids. Just don't have it in me to abduct anyone. Much less an innocent of any kindness. There are just so many kidders I can hardly conceive. I'm more of an idiot than savvy. Of nature and nurture, give me either, or either. I'll leave the labour to the ladies and they can also do the work. The former and the latter: opposite.
Nobody can be exactly what they are not. What they are not is left entirely to another. What another is not is what somebody is. That somebody could be what another is not is obvious. Obviously, that somebody, a relative nobody without another, is not what they themselves are not. Everything but. Everything but what another is not constitutes the make-up of that somebody. That somebody could be just about anybody. That somebody could be just about anybody is obvious. Another reason to believe less and less in the majesty of your own persona is all this bodily business. Bodies go with minds like works go with plumbers. Everybody is what another is not. What another is not is what everybody is. That this is obvious is obvious. Obviously, everybody would like to think that they are separate and distinct. Nobody is. Like back and front, everybody has a nobody. Like every body: back and front. Nobody and everybody: opposite.
If you've ever found yourself hiding behind anonymity, you'll know that hiding behind nothing isn't hiding at all. It's plain to see that a media is no more a circus than an opera is a vehicle and, that being yourself is virtually attainable. Also virtually within reach, handily, are my genitals. It comes as some relief. To have things like that within arms reach is a very happy accident that is probably no accident at all. To be born with a good name that is easily besmirched is akin to riding a bicycle sidesaddle. Getting off your high-bicycle head first is a most inelegant way to fall off the old coil. Falling off the old coil is every person's final fall. It is not to be laughed at. The way some would laugh, you'd think they didn't even care a jot. Note well those who don't care about people they've never met. People who care about themselves are always likely to live in glass jars of preservatives. Death is anonymous like bicycles have hooves. Whatever it is I'm trying to say, I've said it. There it is. To lend your title to the title is called eponymy. So I've read and I've read a lot, wife. I've read paper bound in soft paper and hard and I've read straight off my PC. This might sound a little PC but them's the apples. Anonymous and eponymous: opposite.
Norm
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