Something to do while my brain thwarts my attempts to stab it with a q-tip
I warn you now. This will make no sense, what so ever. Because, well, I don't have to. I'm a pope, I can do what I want. Sorta, kinda. Alright, I can do it if the little woman doesn't smack me for it..... While looking for a job today I came across an interesting post, something disturbing. Perhaps a bit interesting, and gothic. It states
ATTENDENTS Clothing
optional facility. Open
24-7. Call Dusk Till Dawn
***-505-6093 / 869-1323
Now, I probably wouldn't find a problem with this position. Nudity is nothing new, art classes have taken care of the man down under, decensitizing him to the urges of public nudity. The thing that actually disturbs me the most is the Dusk Till Dawn part. I mean, it says its open 24-7. So does this mean its run by a bunch of Vampire nudists? I mean, a vampire movie reference is in the friggin' title. Its odd. I am tempted to call just to find out what the hell is with that. Working for a bunch of middle aged, day-glo pale skinned, retro, nudist vampires may be just the change in career I need. My work is fun, I love my job, but gods to the hours suck. I mean, I work a buttload of hours a week, and all I am left with is getting paid for twenty of them, and having to wait for when I am not working for the extras to roll over. Then, when I have a hundred or so extra hours, they tell me I only have seventeen. Fortunately my brain is not required for my present job, and I can just zone out. My brain has been empty lately. I don't really think of anything, or do anything creative. An intellectual slump if you will. The best I can come up with is perhaps a bit of sarcasim and dry wit. A difibulator to the head might work...CLEAR!...*kyccsssk*...1 2 3...CLEAR! As for life, I could say it goes. I am happy. Not much more to it. I don't do much, and I don't see many people (kind of a hermit really), and on occasion I go to a party when there is one. Social interaction. Mmmm...don't like it. With of course the exception of festival. Sure there was drama, sure it was quiet on the western front, but in the end I had fun. I am the friggin' Herald. I don't stay in one place long enough to notice much. Though I was sad that I was served coffee and pastries by nude people. Kind of wish festival was all the time. Not sure how I'd make money...but it'd work I think. You know if you all convert to Brazilian Dolphin Love Crystal Wicca, and we all signed a petition, we could get the government to give us some tax free land to live seperate from the rest of society. Safe and secure in our lack of care for the world. I'd love it, you'd love it, your great aunt edna would love it. Join, we'll start our own Pod, and I know just the Grand High Flipper to lead us. Now let me lead this somewhere else, seeing as how train of thought is going to control my fingers for the next few weeks. I am doing a gig. A bunch of Haiten Presbyterians(or however you spell that shit) are having a benefit. A Catholic group wanted to join in, and supply a choir. Well, like any normal person I figured they'd be over-joyed. But no. They refused to let them use their equipment and made them get their own. Because they were Catholic. Does that make sense to anyone? I mean let's think. The story of the Good Samaritan. The basis of the story is that everyone hated the Samarians. I mean, most thought getting beaten and robbed was better than running into one of them. Can't trust 'em, can't get along with them, because they bastards. Something like that. Some guy gets jumped, beaten, and robbed. And who helps his sorry ass? The Samaritan. Why? Because you are suppose to love everyone, even if they are different. And these two, Presbyterians and Catholics, can't get along, even though they are sects of the SAME DAMN RELIGION!! I mean even Catholics don't agree with other Catholics on their own dogma, same with the Presbyterians. So why can't they get along? What is their malfuction? My friends are christians, pagans, heathens, satanists, agnostics, athiests, hindu, daoist, gay, bi, straight, male, female, tranny, kinky, prude, nude, clothed, half nude...mmmm...haaalf nuuuudeee. Anyway. My point was they get along fine. Just friggin' fine. But they did have this cool fucking soda. It was Haiten Banana Soda. The bottle was so carbonated that when I opened it, it hissed out like an aresol can this sickly sweet banana scented mist. I got get a case of that stuff just for the air freshener qualities. MMmmmmm....yes! I finally got that damn q-tip in my brain...take that you little bastard. I am gunna go back to work. I'll catch you all on the flip side...that is unless of course I win the battle with my brain...which I never do. Love and stuff.
-Pope Chodus of Still Thinking, Chairman Mao, Moo King, PoolBoy, Do-Bitch, Wino Guardian, Master Manlyhood, Swedish Meatballs, Bastard, blah, blah, blah....
ATTENDENTS Clothing
optional facility. Open
24-7. Call Dusk Till Dawn
***-505-6093 / 869-1323
Now, I probably wouldn't find a problem with this position. Nudity is nothing new, art classes have taken care of the man down under, decensitizing him to the urges of public nudity. The thing that actually disturbs me the most is the Dusk Till Dawn part. I mean, it says its open 24-7. So does this mean its run by a bunch of Vampire nudists? I mean, a vampire movie reference is in the friggin' title. Its odd. I am tempted to call just to find out what the hell is with that. Working for a bunch of middle aged, day-glo pale skinned, retro, nudist vampires may be just the change in career I need. My work is fun, I love my job, but gods to the hours suck. I mean, I work a buttload of hours a week, and all I am left with is getting paid for twenty of them, and having to wait for when I am not working for the extras to roll over. Then, when I have a hundred or so extra hours, they tell me I only have seventeen. Fortunately my brain is not required for my present job, and I can just zone out. My brain has been empty lately. I don't really think of anything, or do anything creative. An intellectual slump if you will. The best I can come up with is perhaps a bit of sarcasim and dry wit. A difibulator to the head might work...CLEAR!...*kyccsssk*...1 2 3...CLEAR! As for life, I could say it goes. I am happy. Not much more to it. I don't do much, and I don't see many people (kind of a hermit really), and on occasion I go to a party when there is one. Social interaction. Mmmm...don't like it. With of course the exception of festival. Sure there was drama, sure it was quiet on the western front, but in the end I had fun. I am the friggin' Herald. I don't stay in one place long enough to notice much. Though I was sad that I was served coffee and pastries by nude people. Kind of wish festival was all the time. Not sure how I'd make money...but it'd work I think. You know if you all convert to Brazilian Dolphin Love Crystal Wicca, and we all signed a petition, we could get the government to give us some tax free land to live seperate from the rest of society. Safe and secure in our lack of care for the world. I'd love it, you'd love it, your great aunt edna would love it. Join, we'll start our own Pod, and I know just the Grand High Flipper to lead us. Now let me lead this somewhere else, seeing as how train of thought is going to control my fingers for the next few weeks. I am doing a gig. A bunch of Haiten Presbyterians(or however you spell that shit) are having a benefit. A Catholic group wanted to join in, and supply a choir. Well, like any normal person I figured they'd be over-joyed. But no. They refused to let them use their equipment and made them get their own. Because they were Catholic. Does that make sense to anyone? I mean let's think. The story of the Good Samaritan. The basis of the story is that everyone hated the Samarians. I mean, most thought getting beaten and robbed was better than running into one of them. Can't trust 'em, can't get along with them, because they bastards. Something like that. Some guy gets jumped, beaten, and robbed. And who helps his sorry ass? The Samaritan. Why? Because you are suppose to love everyone, even if they are different. And these two, Presbyterians and Catholics, can't get along, even though they are sects of the SAME DAMN RELIGION!! I mean even Catholics don't agree with other Catholics on their own dogma, same with the Presbyterians. So why can't they get along? What is their malfuction? My friends are christians, pagans, heathens, satanists, agnostics, athiests, hindu, daoist, gay, bi, straight, male, female, tranny, kinky, prude, nude, clothed, half nude...mmmm...haaalf nuuuudeee. Anyway. My point was they get along fine. Just friggin' fine. But they did have this cool fucking soda. It was Haiten Banana Soda. The bottle was so carbonated that when I opened it, it hissed out like an aresol can this sickly sweet banana scented mist. I got get a case of that stuff just for the air freshener qualities. MMmmmmm....yes! I finally got that damn q-tip in my brain...take that you little bastard. I am gunna go back to work. I'll catch you all on the flip side...that is unless of course I win the battle with my brain...which I never do. Love and stuff.
-Pope Chodus of Still Thinking, Chairman Mao, Moo King, PoolBoy, Do-Bitch, Wino Guardian, Master Manlyhood, Swedish Meatballs, Bastard, blah, blah, blah....