Sunday, May 09, 2004
HELLO MRS. PREMISE
Oh, hello Mrs. Conclusion. I'll bet that Mrs. Jean Paul Sartre wouldn't've 'ad to do all this 'erself. It'd all be done for her, yes it would, mmmmmmmhmmmmmmhmmhmmhmmmmmmmmmm..... and lookin' out of the window! mmmmmmmmmhmmmmmmmmmmhmmmhmmmhmmmmmmmmmmm........ She wouldn't 'ave 'ad to look out her own window, noooooo..... mmmmmhmmmmmmhmmm......... mmmmhmmmhmmmhmmmhmmmmmmmm........
Stop it! Stop it! That's just silly! It's even more silly than having small house lizards typing out words at a keyboard. The Jean Paul Sartre household could never have had servants, it's too silly. It would be like Noam Chomsky supporting genocide or something. No wait. Nevermind. But it's still silly! Lizards can't type, and they can't speak English! No wait. What are these little turds between the keys here... OK! Silliness. Ends. Now. Be serious. English speaking house lizard was here, blogging, thought my keyboard was here just for him to poop on. Now management is having a strangely seductive Monty Python flashback. Lt-Col Arthur Luxury-Yacht (Ret'd) is stomping out silliness, and the only way out is to pray for a Scotsman on a horse to say,
"And now, for something completely different. A Scotsman on a horse... no wait - that's me. It's ummm, a gecko with his finger up his brother's nose! Ok, not that, it's ummmm, a lizard with three buttocks! Take it away, naked organist wearing a tie!"