Wednesday, April 29, 2009

There were once two cute little fecks name Argle and Yargle.

Argle and Yargle. Being bored out of my skull and facing another night of insomnia, I shall abstain from my usual courtly poetry and stick to the

bare
bleached
bovine

sensibility of teen language.

OK, seriously. The world is, like, this huge round yoyo spinning around on a large invisible stick, with idiotic little pokemon just sprouting out of the ground like popcorn. Totally nonsensical, and utterly lacking in humour. Were I any normal doggone kid I'd amuse myself with pictures of naked people, but I'd only have more difficulty sleeping. Apparently pictures of naked people are the solution to people falling asleep in General Paper class.

Honestly, how crass.

Taking account the person in particular at which the remedy is targeted, though, makes things perfectly understandable.

Is it just because I'm bored that I'm eating? This is so bad for my health. It's like 12.30 am already, or something like that.

Where did my whole night go, man? Someone outta keep a watch on the Sun and Moon. They're meddling with each other's alarm clocks. Sleeping on their shifts! O deplorable stars.

Why oh why am I so bored. Whoy oh whoy. Whey oh whey. Whay?

Whay , ay whay, am ay sao bard?

Starz above, but we're one pathetic bunch of bored out hobos without humour. A whole race of dull, dour and dispassionate souls.

I mean, we'd be all like potatoes.

And which dumbass dude would want to be a potato? I mean, sure, you'd be useful. You'd either be a fry or a wedge. Or maybe a mashed up mass of sticky stiff starch. Yeck.

I've run out of stupid blackcurrent ricola. Perfect time to crave for weird inassessible foods, at 12.20 at night...is the stupid clock going backwards? oh wait. I put it upside down for novelty...go me, nice new and novel as our lousy lit text.

So now its 12.4o.

And to top it off it's as hot as Britney Spears' ex-ass around here.

Sun, you need to put on more clothes when you shine.

Elang, you need to follow suit.

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