Go outside with a big stick; use it as a gate or a poorly insulated cubical.
Two rednecks will pull up. One will explain what the hell he is doing here.
The same one will suddenly yell “Hey! Honey! I Love You!” before concluding “ain’t Karma a bitch.”
You won’t know what the question is until you write this.
ta ta / ta ta / ta ta, tata:tata
if you ever loved me
and believe in magic
this is the time to cast a spell
Out of the naiveté of pure joy I decide to tweet “For you: anthophilous, lover of flowers”,
The earth fractures when there’s not a Twitter bookmarklet in my Bookmarks Bar.
I am left in a ruined landscape. There are chunks of what some claim are clues of a former society, but it seems unlikely that anyone could have ever lived here.
And then I see a Share button on the Poetry Foundation site.
The landscape sprouts momentous pine trees that dig deep into the sandy soil. I breath deeply and relax and the sky goes black.
Followed by the thunderous launching of a new tab being populated with thudding hailstones of esoteric social services.
cOOtopia?
ZingMe!
Poetry Foundation, all yourelses are Zen, your AddThis is not.
Hell,
All the clamor on this end of things is all about how why the Robots Meta WP plugin resets every post to index, follow whenever bulk-actions are conducted. Continue reading Updating Hell
I am the shadow behind the ’gentsia
a group of talented observers
a group of lazy, unproductive
a group of busy and interesting souls
that often fail
that
occasionally forget to report.
