So, it's Tuesday, and in keeping with the general theme of Tuesdays past, I went out and got a wee bit tipsy. Bourbon on sale - what are you going to do? I got tipsy enough where I delivered a rant against gentrification, developers, the perniciousness of the rich and the primacy of the working class. At Broadways, it got a standing ovation from the other two people who were there. At home, where it was coupled with a lengthy Marxist diatribe against those parasites of the proletariat (M, n & A) who live on the backs of the working classes (moi) and never do the dishes and apparently don't care when the proletariat (moi) comes home from a long days work and long evening's drinking and nothing around the house, but nothing, is done. This is the moment when the proletariat (moi) flip the fuck out and yell like crazy at the aforementioned parasites (my loved ones.) And then, the proletariat feels horribly guilty and apologizes all around and reminds the parsites that the proletariat loves them above all others and the proletariat will now clean the kitchen. There is a problem with this equation but I'll leave it to the dedicated Marx scholars to spot the logical lapse here.
In other news, everybody think good thoughts about Greyhound buses and how they make their way tirelessly and thanklessly across the country and in particular you might want to think about buses that come from San Francisco to Asheville and think, you know, good thoughts about smooth passages and easy travel about them. Because the goddess knows I am.
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1 comment:
Good thoughts are being thunk :)
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