45 Seconds to Midnight
Long and hard is the road that out of mediocrity leads up to nullity. And that's why it took me so god damn long.
But certainly the wait is all for nought, I've been struggling to get in a few last words before nuclear warfare lays waste to this planet, but for the life of me I can't think of a single interesting thing to say. Which is way I've decided to not say anything interesting ever again. On this day, I solemnly swear to not say anything meaningful, funny, or even remotely witty in these tiresome last entries I waste your time with. Not to imply for a moment that any of those previously aforementioned adjectives could be applied to anything I've said in the past, I just wanted to make it clear that they definitely could not be applied to any of the drivel I might expel in the future. From now on, its just whining, senseless ranting, and even poorer punctuation, then, ever, before,
So if you thought the first 119 were poorly written garbage, so did I. That being said:
Certainly it would go without saying that little has happened in the past 6 months or so. Nothing ever happens. I almost wish I could say my life fell into some horrible downward spiral, spinning out of control. But its never anything that glamourous. A more appropriate analogy would be those 15 minutes after the crash, some people stop and stare, but the initial charm has passed and now it's twisted remains just reminds them of their own mortality. So here I stand, before a man I do not know, screaming and carrying on about whos attorney is going to pay for what damage. I bet he'll be pissed when he finds out I have no insurance and don't technically "own" anything. Que Será, Será, I guess. Why bother fighting it?
The few thoughts that do cross my tiny mind have grown more and more obsessed with the imminent destruction of most of this planet at the hands of various lunatics. Wicked puppets playing out the parts of the villains they created in folklore long ago.
The antichrist walks our earth at this very minute, and is in a position of great power. Power, that was given to him, not by the voices of many, but by the treachery of few. Mock my words, he will Bring aboUt the end, and that end is Sooner then you tHink. So if there's anything you planned on doing before you die, it'd probably be a good idea to get it done before fall of 2007.......
But what really bothers me, is that a few years ago I was totally looking forward to being in the generation that would likely bare witness to the total ruination of all living things. In comparison to dying alone in a hospital room, I figured it would be a hell of a lot more interesting way to go. I imaged seeing this quaint suburban hovel I've grown accustomed to, reduced to flaming refuse. I could hear the cries of friends and loved ones but not be able to see them through all the thick smoke and debris, the smell of charred flesh would be so strong you could actually taste it on the tip of your tongue. But now that doomsday is truly around the corner, quite frankly, i'm kinda disappointed.
Its not even so much a matter of growing complacent with my standing in life, and not wanting it to end. If anything, im more miserable then I've ever been. It's just this superficial desire to not end my life as a statistic. Whats the fun of dying if no one else is alive to see you do it? Not to mention this sickening feeling of being cheated.
And that's what bothers me, not the actual end itself, but its total lack of style. Couldn't there have been something more grandiose? I was hoping for volcanoes and earthquakes that would rip the planet to shreds, swarms of locust, fire and brimstone, the bowels of hell emptying itself upon earth and bringing about horrors the likes of which mankind has never seen before. Something more interesting then just a loud bang and instant vapourization. I mean, wheres the god damn Four Horseman?! I dreamed of riding alongside Death's pale cow since I was just a little girl, and now your gonna deny me that?!
Speaking of cows, I was talking recently to my lost loved ones about an idea I was planning on pitching to the people down at Hershey. I was thinking of how lovely it would be if we started producing Chocolate Covered Cow Tongues. It would be similar to the Hershey kisses with almonds, only with cow tongue instead of almonds. And the treats would be more tear shaped, as opposed to the more nipple shaped kisses we're all used to. I would explain to them that these tears are the laments of the chocolate cows. Whos teets were so brutally strangled by the violent hands of the careless farmers. No, by the careless hands of the violent farmers. What I mean is, The enormous brown stinky hair covered mits that dangle from the hammish pink scaly limbs of the long forgotten old lustful and raging with thoughts of unmitigated violence and absolute carelessness heart warming hand farmers. Farm hand is my right hand, the left down your/my/ours careless hammy cow pants. Clearly these are the teets of an abused calf. They tell me "Meat is Murder" and I say unto them "Is not Milk, Molestation?" Confused, they walk back into the pallid hell that is their daily life.
Anyway, about the Chocolate covered cow tongues. We'd be using freshly cut cow tongue, none of this month old dried cow tongue full of preservatives and corn syrup that you so often see handed out during children's partys at Charlie Cheese or whatever the hell its called. Were talking only the freshest tongue for our costumers. And to avoid breaking any kind of "cruelty" laws, we'd stick to using only the tongues of cows that have been convicted of violent crime against women, child rape, and bootlegging.
We even got a cute slogan for it
"Chocolate Covered Cow Tongue, The Snack That Kisses Back".
Whatever happened to Judy Tenuta anyway?
"That wasn't even worth my scorn" - Pariah The Penguin
But certainly the wait is all for nought, I've been struggling to get in a few last words before nuclear warfare lays waste to this planet, but for the life of me I can't think of a single interesting thing to say. Which is way I've decided to not say anything interesting ever again. On this day, I solemnly swear to not say anything meaningful, funny, or even remotely witty in these tiresome last entries I waste your time with. Not to imply for a moment that any of those previously aforementioned adjectives could be applied to anything I've said in the past, I just wanted to make it clear that they definitely could not be applied to any of the drivel I might expel in the future. From now on, its just whining, senseless ranting, and even poorer punctuation, then, ever, before,
So if you thought the first 119 were poorly written garbage, so did I. That being said:
Certainly it would go without saying that little has happened in the past 6 months or so. Nothing ever happens. I almost wish I could say my life fell into some horrible downward spiral, spinning out of control. But its never anything that glamourous. A more appropriate analogy would be those 15 minutes after the crash, some people stop and stare, but the initial charm has passed and now it's twisted remains just reminds them of their own mortality. So here I stand, before a man I do not know, screaming and carrying on about whos attorney is going to pay for what damage. I bet he'll be pissed when he finds out I have no insurance and don't technically "own" anything. Que Será, Será, I guess. Why bother fighting it?
The few thoughts that do cross my tiny mind have grown more and more obsessed with the imminent destruction of most of this planet at the hands of various lunatics. Wicked puppets playing out the parts of the villains they created in folklore long ago.
The antichrist walks our earth at this very minute, and is in a position of great power. Power, that was given to him, not by the voices of many, but by the treachery of few. Mock my words, he will Bring aboUt the end, and that end is Sooner then you tHink. So if there's anything you planned on doing before you die, it'd probably be a good idea to get it done before fall of 2007.......
But what really bothers me, is that a few years ago I was totally looking forward to being in the generation that would likely bare witness to the total ruination of all living things. In comparison to dying alone in a hospital room, I figured it would be a hell of a lot more interesting way to go. I imaged seeing this quaint suburban hovel I've grown accustomed to, reduced to flaming refuse. I could hear the cries of friends and loved ones but not be able to see them through all the thick smoke and debris, the smell of charred flesh would be so strong you could actually taste it on the tip of your tongue. But now that doomsday is truly around the corner, quite frankly, i'm kinda disappointed.
Its not even so much a matter of growing complacent with my standing in life, and not wanting it to end. If anything, im more miserable then I've ever been. It's just this superficial desire to not end my life as a statistic. Whats the fun of dying if no one else is alive to see you do it? Not to mention this sickening feeling of being cheated.
And that's what bothers me, not the actual end itself, but its total lack of style. Couldn't there have been something more grandiose? I was hoping for volcanoes and earthquakes that would rip the planet to shreds, swarms of locust, fire and brimstone, the bowels of hell emptying itself upon earth and bringing about horrors the likes of which mankind has never seen before. Something more interesting then just a loud bang and instant vapourization. I mean, wheres the god damn Four Horseman?! I dreamed of riding alongside Death's pale cow since I was just a little girl, and now your gonna deny me that?!
Speaking of cows, I was talking recently to my lost loved ones about an idea I was planning on pitching to the people down at Hershey. I was thinking of how lovely it would be if we started producing Chocolate Covered Cow Tongues. It would be similar to the Hershey kisses with almonds, only with cow tongue instead of almonds. And the treats would be more tear shaped, as opposed to the more nipple shaped kisses we're all used to. I would explain to them that these tears are the laments of the chocolate cows. Whos teets were so brutally strangled by the violent hands of the careless farmers. No, by the careless hands of the violent farmers. What I mean is, The enormous brown stinky hair covered mits that dangle from the hammish pink scaly limbs of the long forgotten old lustful and raging with thoughts of unmitigated violence and absolute carelessness heart warming hand farmers. Farm hand is my right hand, the left down your/my/ours careless hammy cow pants. Clearly these are the teets of an abused calf. They tell me "Meat is Murder" and I say unto them "Is not Milk, Molestation?" Confused, they walk back into the pallid hell that is their daily life.
Anyway, about the Chocolate covered cow tongues. We'd be using freshly cut cow tongue, none of this month old dried cow tongue full of preservatives and corn syrup that you so often see handed out during children's partys at Charlie Cheese or whatever the hell its called. Were talking only the freshest tongue for our costumers. And to avoid breaking any kind of "cruelty" laws, we'd stick to using only the tongues of cows that have been convicted of violent crime against women, child rape, and bootlegging.
We even got a cute slogan for it
"Chocolate Covered Cow Tongue, The Snack That Kisses Back".
Whatever happened to Judy Tenuta anyway?
"That wasn't even worth my scorn" - Pariah The Penguin