Home > Uncategorized > Many buns in the oven (pt1/2)

Many buns in the oven (pt1/2)

I tease, I tease.  So that would make this a teaser.  But not a spoiler.  I never spoil – as long as I’m refrigerated immediately after my seal is broken.  Let’s see what’s cookin!

Believe it or not, I am actually working on stuff back here.  Here’s some forthcoming posts that nobody will ever read until I am long dead.

There was no bashment anywhere.

And why this is a fit and proper state of affairs.  Blinky-Blonky electronic music, big tops, tight tops, sunshine, using the earth’s crust as a subwoofer and some of the best times I’ve ever had.  And then stopped having.

Incie Wincie Tynchy Stryder Spider.

And other freakish beasts in the public domain.  And why his parents probably hated him from birth, unless he’s done something even more bizarre than George Orwell did.  Why moving to the beat of a different drum should be encouraged, even if this results in anti-social behavior.  Also touches upon why over reliance on my autonomous subconscious butler, Jeeves, may land me in some major difficulties.  Also some insightful comments on Pixie Lott’s legs, and why I can’t even hear her music even if I tried.  And why this isn’t something I consider a problem.  All will be revealed when we ask Jeeves.

Breaking the big news.

A dialogue that spirals into a fugue at cross purposes, flips over on itself and miraculously arrives at a pre-selected destination.  You know what?  You don’t yet.  That would spoil the surprise.  Heavily reliant on plagarising my own Twitter feed.  Ends on a genuine bombshell cliffhanger.

How will we survive Nerd Armageddon?

Touches on many points.  The parlous state of the Games Industry and what this tells us about the adults of future years, why the younglings are being subjected to enfeebling Pavlovian Conditioning and by whom, identify-process-complete-neurochemicals-identify-process-complete-neurochemicals and on and on and on and on forever, the creepy metaphorical human hamster wheel of doom, uber-pragmatic micromanagement by the mechanical bean-counting meatbots, MBA-tooled up borg hive management, their nutricious society smoothies and their poor grasp of the fundamentals of naval architecture, mundane wageslave bondage and the sweet sweet release of TV light entertainment, how a conspiracy could be a conspiracy if nobody involved is aware, or even conspiring, and the first sign of homogenisation – Milton Keynes.  Prepare yourselves for a depressing conclusion.

In the beginning…

…STOP.  What’s my beef with MCHammer, and how does this connect directly into the supreme evil of POSTED LEDGER BALANCES, bank cost-benefit analysis, my belief that the financial services indutry is institutionally autistic, and deceit and cynicism on a global scale?  Along the route to the anwer to all this we discover exactly why the Internet is a series of tubes, and not a big truck, and why, contrary to faddish mockery several years ago, this statement is precisely correct, and what this has to do with your debit card, and the crushing of Concorde into the fossil record.  Also featuring the golden age of Bill Cosby as he embarks upon the production of his magnum opus, the surprising amount of goat in Carribean cusine, why goat’s cheese seems to me to be a satanic perversion, and…loads of other stuff to pad it all out.

Hey hey!  Part 2 to follow when I regain consciousness in about 20 hours.  We’re talking about the Funniest Joke I’ve ever told anybody, and it’s continuing evolution from eight word punchline without a buildup to a rambling ten-thousand word epic only one-tenth complete and seemingly without end.  And I assure you – it’s all part of the same joke, one big joke.  I’m not joking.  If this thing doesn’t get me into print I’m eating my own fingers.  Captain Googleplanet! is a morality tale involving hypnowidgets, massively disrespectful spam and the successful but entirely unscheduled insertion of Nova Scotia into a polar earth orbit.  There’s also the minor matter of seeing if we can find something that is equal to the combined weight of the population of Brazil.  This bit you’ll find to be quite surprising.  Oh yeah, and there’s also something I’m poking about with involving Taking the nuclear option in Scrabble.

Go on then.  Bugger off!

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