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Cruising in from the tachyonic subterranian disco factory, I disconnected my phone, and sent a jolt from the three-phase power supply up Ma Bell's ass.
Distraction 1 elimiated. The TV didn't see what was coming. Elvis would have been jealous. Distraction 2 eliminated. The refridgerator, once pushed properly, rolled nicely down the hill and into my neighbor's tool shed. It was a fucking prissy appliance, anyways. Distraction 3 eliminated. I couldn't set my car on fire. Damn '72 Lincoln Continental Mark IV's. If it wasn't for how I laughed when it sliced beamers in half... I gave up and slashed the tires. Distraction 4 eliminated. I didn't feel like destroying the toilet. I wasn't THAT drunk. Distraction 5 spared. Now, the point. I was now distraction free. I then settled down in front of my computer, and queued up some hard trance. Sometimes you just have to hear 303's farting for an hour or five, you know? ... and screw ANYONE or ANYTHING that interfered. Take that lesson with you, my little marmosets. |
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| Posted by Reverend Tedward Q. Porktanker @ 2003-08-21 02:30:46 | |
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