At the Indianapolis airport, going through security, the scanner flagged my bionic penis, and a strange bland man in a starchy blue shirt felt me up and down, his gloved hands all over my groin, finally determining that the mysterious mass in my pants was only my freakish mechanical wang and not a hidden explosive device, a routine occurrence for me when I fly.
Heyheyhey New Yaawk Ciddee where the roaches never sleep and there's no shortage of cultural venoos and stuff.
Just checked up on Sovereign House and it does indeed seem to be infested with Thielites and Jesus Freaks with suits, so sez the meeja at any rate.
But I won't get into the woke vs unwoke debate because a) I'm not American, and it seems like a special anglo hobby, like sports with bats; and b) I do real politics and don't care about what colour people's hair is, or indeed if they have none at all like you, nor am I interested in their genital disposition, even if said genitals are intriguingly bionic like yours. Hey, you do your hairless, bionic-todgered, dark enlightement you, mush.
I only care about your economic class baybee, and everyone in New Yaaawk must be straight up bourgified if they accept them prices, matey. While you and I, CC, are certified precariat with all the cool benefits that this implies - authenticity, heaps of cynical cred, monotonous life experience, etc, etc. Hope you get another precariat gig pronto and all your dreams come true-ish.
Identity politics/culture war stuff is a silly sideshow, or a sport as you put it, and I mostly ignore it, but you’ll have to permit me to indulge it on occasion as a bit of sporting fun. And I had the same thought you articulated my entire visit, “how in gods name are people affording to live here?”
The hurricane certainly is daddy Zeus, this WOMBFIED world is in need of some eroic bionic blows. (Not the regression to NUTCRANKIN' , huh)
Some blitzkrieg in yer lebens giving organs, the same shock that woke up frankenstein. The CRAZY RAY of Paris qui dort, the rays of Ming the Merciless, the man behind the curtainz in the Wonderful Wizards of O. S. S. because all the world's a-stage, is a-changin and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater, it's about to rolywholyover. "SkyKing do not answer"
"In a permanent state of erection; pricking o'er the plain"
Border Patrol is also hiring
I’ve considered it
see you there
great writing I'm buying your book
Thank you. Hope you enjoy the book
Heyheyhey New Yaawk Ciddee where the roaches never sleep and there's no shortage of cultural venoos and stuff.
Just checked up on Sovereign House and it does indeed seem to be infested with Thielites and Jesus Freaks with suits, so sez the meeja at any rate.
But I won't get into the woke vs unwoke debate because a) I'm not American, and it seems like a special anglo hobby, like sports with bats; and b) I do real politics and don't care about what colour people's hair is, or indeed if they have none at all like you, nor am I interested in their genital disposition, even if said genitals are intriguingly bionic like yours. Hey, you do your hairless, bionic-todgered, dark enlightement you, mush.
I only care about your economic class baybee, and everyone in New Yaaawk must be straight up bourgified if they accept them prices, matey. While you and I, CC, are certified precariat with all the cool benefits that this implies - authenticity, heaps of cynical cred, monotonous life experience, etc, etc. Hope you get another precariat gig pronto and all your dreams come true-ish.
Identity politics/culture war stuff is a silly sideshow, or a sport as you put it, and I mostly ignore it, but you’ll have to permit me to indulge it on occasion as a bit of sporting fun. And I had the same thought you articulated my entire visit, “how in gods name are people affording to live here?”
The hurricane certainly is daddy Zeus, this WOMBFIED world is in need of some eroic bionic blows. (Not the regression to NUTCRANKIN' , huh)
Some blitzkrieg in yer lebens giving organs, the same shock that woke up frankenstein. The CRAZY RAY of Paris qui dort, the rays of Ming the Merciless, the man behind the curtainz in the Wonderful Wizards of O. S. S. because all the world's a-stage, is a-changin and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater, it's about to rolywholyover. "SkyKing do not answer"
"In a permanent state of erection; pricking o'er the plain"
(Ending scene of 'Surrogates')
City job. Anything will do.