Thursday, May 10, 2007

Goat Hotel

Inside every Hotel there is a goat.

Metaphorically speaking I'd posit that a collar should not come with every dog.

Indeed, this is exactly how nature behaves. Dogs are born without collars. Pretty much without exception. Not that this is wise for later on, but still, it's pretty much an axiom. Newborn dog = no collar.

Now that we've established this fact it maybe more clear that there is no sane or justifiable reason that goats should have hotels built around them. Even should said hotel include such goat ammenities such as rope, tin-cans, wire, spinach, weeds, shrubs, grasses and all manner of herbz such as are often found in nature.

The astute among you may see the implications this has for Starwood Hotels. Any Billy, Jane, or Job could rush out buy themselves a goat and place the goat on a nice 5x5 section of land, thereby restricting the building of any structure where people may pay a reasonable price to get a resonable nights sleep.

To the point of this missive:

Do goats have eminent domain?

Monday, May 07, 2007

Quasimoto

Quasimoto is not wearing pants.

Think about it.

Monetary Policy

I Shot the Sheriff... Burnin' and Lootin'. No wonder Bob got whacked by the CIA.

Your role is to fulfill the bullshit. Specifically the part about the lootin'. How many river do we have to cross? As many as it takes to move all your money to somebody else's pocket. That's how many, Bob.

Like at one point I thought groups where teh dum. They are. Then it became more patently (and monetarily) obvious that groups and money are ruled by the same social law. Kill them and take their shit. Works for bacteria, wolves, humans, trees, fungus, corporations, groups, governments, you name it. Oh religions too... can't forget that one. Point is, you are either an alpha or you are what I like to call a revenue stream, human, natural resource ready to be tapped. Wolves got this figured out pretty well. So do chimps. Humans though, having a few layers extra tacked onto their neo-cortex have somehow decided things don't work this way, while living under the same laws. Ever wonder what your SUV eats for breakfast? Dead plants and your wallet. Ever wonder what BP/Exxon-Mobil eat for breakfast? You and your wallet. Ever wonder what your wallet eats? Nothing. It pretty much is a one way street with HOV restricted traffic. So you got this large express bus going by about every half-hour full of cash, making no stops till it reaches somebody elses banken.

Maybe you drive a dumptruck, pizza wagon, or hearse. You at least understand you're a conveyor belt. Sometimes you may think of getting fed up and leaving a plane you've got in tow in the middle of the street and just going for beers instead of dealing with the cops, traffic and tolls... and sometimes you may just do it. That's the choice you have. Non-cooperation or starting your own government, religion, or psuedo-legal entity may work, but at this point those cards have been played enough times that everybody is kinda gonna see you tip your hand and beat you at that game before you've even laid down.

So before you get despondent that everything has been done before, remember that it has. Then think about it. That's been done before too. Now get back out there and make me some money.

I am just a buffalo soldier in the heart of amerika.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Loa Loa Mi Amigo


Narcolepsy. Insomnia. Drug-induction. Superior vena cava. Much like the disposable pants I now wear. Despite their being able to nod off whilst driving 90mph.

Dancing with the loa... and then onto the mechanical-bull. Funny thing about mechanical-bulls. Having to take one apart to be able to install it in your basement is a real bothersome chore. Not something to chortle about. Especially without the proper tools. Without the loa... odds are you're gonna end up with a few extra screws loose. Later on after a few beers you'll be thrown off as the thing disintegrates in front of you. So use all the screws.

Shirley McClane did not. Looky waht happened... lots of bad hair days, even worse outfits, and several disaterous attempts at revenue generating pyramid schemes later... and it's back onto the mechanical bull for her. No more crunchy granola trance running through pagan energy channels. Viola, it's the internet, digital, in your viens, your head... synthetic dopamine
on demand.

Superior Dumptrucks

I'm taking everythang. Away. In my dumptruck. Though the sandbox doesn't seem to fit in the dump part of the truck. My solution? Multiple trips. The truck goes into the sandbox. It is filled up. It drives out, dumps the sand and goes back for more. Doing it over and over and over and over and oaver till I owne teh sandbox. My own little sandbox right next to the old one.

What the? Looks like the old one too. Just in a different spot.

This is exactly why everybody is the same. Bacteria. The plastic of the 22nd century. I'm telling you son, you want to be into bacteria. Petrochemical and metal based production techniques are going to be quaint. The future is in bacteria. Bacteria are great. They live everywhere. All over you. Inside, outside and stuff. Pretty much you are a bacteria incubator. Know why this matters?
Because YOU dear reader are a potential factory and goldmine of a bountiful and wonderous supply of bacteria. What could more simple? What could be better? Swiss cheese. But you are not made of swiss cheese.

Bacteria though... they care not for what human is allowing them to chow down on the swiss cheese in your gut. Bacteria, democratic, impartial, your friends, everywhere, and sometimes benevolent. Yogurt. It's what's for breakfast. I'm feeling revolutionary today and going to start an ileum junta. figth the power!