Gimme the Prize!

Oh, so many things to talk about, and the lack of places to start.

First things first let me speak on the amount of work I being loaded on my back. Much, much work, few assignments but many in burden, they are like rocks that are thrown into the net that is part of the catch. Throw more restrictions they say, let you do what we call as a work of art, the way that it would be going.

The walruses are fucking chirping! Goo-goo-goo-ga-joob! They who say that this cannot be done, that the roads cannot be made without the proper amount of salt and tar, which is the same thing that is in our gunpowder of the masses. The almighty cigarette that holds in view more than the true Almighty. Joe Camel is worshipped as a speculative icon, not as a figurine for the people to stoop down, because no man would kneel to another mammal unless he feels that it is the right thing for him to follow.

Gimme the prize!

Whisper in our ears, little pretty birds, where the roads lead to. Failure is not an option, as time is money, and money wasted is time wasted, the clock ticking away leading to the utter destruction of society as we know it. Fire and brimstone cast upon he that does not seek the norm, who looks upon other ways to feed his needs, so sayeth they that set the rules for standard living. Lies, lies, all they say!

Swords on swords, men fighting men throughout the ages. Scoff at me you fool, you that wieldeth the sabre and I the one with the musket. You need not reload and only to swish, I am the master of my accord, my stick holds lightning and smoke. Hands that fashioned both, weapons of war, they hurt, they kill, they maim, but do they make fields? Yes! All things make fields! Scorching lands covered by mounds of lava, the product of the boiling earth, it is her destiny to sprout out the unimaginable.

Fear her and her children, little people who sit on her breasts and wade along her lips. The wind blows from one corner to the other, you look at each other with uncertainty, living in your own personal boxes. The security of the cardboard that is your home, some will have paint to cover the fibre of their cardboard that it would look different from others, attractive before all other forms of mankind. Spit on them that huddle from the rain, are you not foolish? Foolish! I think not! You are human!

Words of encouragement do not meet my ears as surely as I want them. You are not meant for this road. Off you go. I swat you with my electric racquet, you little mosquito. Your destiny is not for who you ought to be. Take your belongings and camp on the side of the path, that perhaps in time I might take pity in my passing and throw you a coin.

No! My destiny is my own, given from higher that I may use with the gun of life. BLAM and BLAM go the bullets. Fly on my future, and hit the barrier. Break the glass that stops me, break it again, smash it into itty little bits. Kings to squeeze, queens to turn, stare into their eyes and you see fear looking back at you.

The mirror shows. Reflection, I am a walrus. Goo-goo-goo-ca-joob! It cannot be! I fly with my wings, who am I to say that I follow the walruses, or the lemmings? The prize is ahead of me, if only I can reach it, in my hands. Fingers touching, grasping. Hold on. I have something to say.


Don't take it, it is mine! What is mine, it is mine!



Gimme the prize!

Land Ho!

Discovery sometimes comes to you when you least expect it. Sometimes. Like for instance, Christopher Columbus expected to arrive in the West Indies but had ended up in what we now call America instead. A lot of wonders here and there, found by man out of the blue, just walking by themselves and having no premonition until it hits them with an 'Oh! I didn't know that!'.

Happened to me likewise the night or so before. An ailment to me is that once I have a drop of alcohol, there would be this instant hangover, whereupon I'd have a headache and me face turn to the entirety of redness (one of mine pals can confirm this, if ye like). Plus the dizziness.

The funny thing is, that after I cooldown/soberwhatever, I'd take more and more drink, and frankly won't feel a thing, and still be coherent. Won't feel a thing meaning that I wasn't out cold, but that it had like no effect on me, tasting the lovely alcohol without feeling that it wasn't a cheap brand of thinner or somewhat.

Discovery, what a discovery eh?



I sort of learnt something else though. Don't mix Kahlua with soda. Egh.


Listening to: Mostly Mods

Cripes.

I don't have much to say these days, eh? Either the escapades of my daily cooking, I don't seem to have much to talk about or rant about. Not like the good ol' days eh, of talking about the randomness of man and how it applies to my life. Right now its either to study (or work, your pick) like never before in the efforts to acclaim the middle-class dream. Good house, good car, good toys, good wife, good everything.

It seems that there are things out there that try to make it difficult for you no matter what you do. I'm not complaining, just saying. Life could use a little less edge for the less unfortunate out there, yaknow?

I don't mean to sound like a broken record, but I really miss my old comp/box, as it gives me more edge on the games. And that I don't have anything else to say today.


Peace, and roger out.


Who the fuck's roger anyway?

Working on the railroad....

I won't say much, except that for the current moment I'm a bit busy. Assignments yes, but at the same time, I'm also working on a different - completely different- CSS layout. The current one? A bit boring by mine -and possibly some- standards. I'll let you in a little spoiler. Plain, yet informative. Old-fashioned, yet striking.


That'll be all.

Ahem.

Just so you'd know, for some reason, the landlord of my place has decided to place a limiter on the connections, thus limiting each person to about 500MBs per month. Which is of course outrageously miniscule. Almost immediately was my connection affected, even if the only part of the Net disallowed was the HTTP section.
But you're posting here! Some of you might say. Which is true, not because I'm using my uni's connection, but simply because I am in a way. Via Unix from the comforts of my home, and using Lynx at the moment. A text-only browser for those of you who feel left in the dark. Yep, that's right. No pretty pictures, no fancy CSS. Just good ol' text and yeah, text.
Some you will of course (as I am sometimes) say "Where's the fun in that?" I mean, wheres the bloody pictures? Well, lets just say that when it comes to times of hardships, the bae essentials are what counts.
And in this case of the inability of Firefox and IE (stopped touching it, btw), we still find that the command line works. Not like a charm, but it still works.

Well, it is better than nothing.

Bawitdaba

Perspective. Perceiving. Same prefix, different subject. But if you ask me, they represent the same context, more or less.

Lemme just let you know what I'm talking about. More than once have my eyes come across women holding hands together. Unless you think that women who hold hands together are all lesbian. Not really so, even with the more than noticeable girl-on-girl references in this country.

Now good female friends would hands together, but good male buddies would definitely not. They'd have 'em over each other's shoulders.

So, just what is it that I'm getting on about?



Nothing really. Just a few girls holding hands. That's all.

Currently listening to: Kid Rock