Paper clips ate jelly beans
Mondays off really fuck me. Fridays are the best day off because you're already hung over and such from Thursday. At first I'm like, fuck yeah, free Monday. Then all of a sudden it's Thursday but I'll be damned if it really isn't Wednesday in some alternate universe and for what? Labor day? Is that what it was? I wish I knew.
Anyway, one thing I wanted to say was this: I FUCKING NEW IT AND I TRIED TO TELL YOU AND YOU SIMPLY WOULD NOT LISTEN.
Read it and weep, mom and dad:
For anyone who doesn't have the innernet access I'll print here the headline which will confirm my years of protesting against keeping any monkey alive: Monkeys control robots with their minds.
The threat is real.
The threat is here and the threat is real.
The threat is hairy and it will throw orange wedges at you.
The threat stinks of humidity and urine, even.
As if robots weren't bad enough because they are bullet proof and can crush a man, now we see monkeys control them (like I long suspected).
Don't say I didn't warn you when the future is a mess of monkey shits and robots. Robots making monkey noises and gamboling around on the ground while the monkeys control the air via vines like in that Indiana Jones movie where the young Turk confusingly swings through the trees (spoiler alert en reverse).
Don't say it.
Do not say it. That I didn't warn you.
Because I did.
Also, I don't get to the news much but I guess that old Kennedy has a brain tumor?
Haven't I been saying that all along? For years, really. I hate to say I told you so but I guess I did. Sorry for rubbing it in your face but sometimes we all need a little humility lesson and today is your day.
Really, I guess all democrats have brain tumors. That's what I've been saying because you just look at all of the Mexicans coming over the border into the loving arms of California democrats and you say to yourself, you keep that brain tumor, Mr. California liberal.
On a final note, the sands of medicority have settled to the bottom. There's a Starbucks in Lincoln, NE and now we know that the sands are all in place. Don't get me wrong, I like a good coffee as much as the next guy. But really, when it's in Lincoln, NE...when a trend reaches Lincoln then there really is nowhere to go from there because you're firmly in the silt.
Your feet are firmly in the silt.