Confusion, Confusion

Recently someone told me I am confusing my readers. All right, I’ll let you in on it, it was that officious little bastard who calls himself Mr. Wilder. The bloody fucking EDITOR. He said: why do you post every six days? It’s totally confusing! Post once a week, everyone understands that. You post every six days… monday, next week sunday, people look monday, next week saturday, they look monday… and so on, until they look monday and you post first on tuesday!
What
What the fuck…? Doesn’t he realize I have to keep my readers on their toes? No way am I ever going to let them get in to any kind of rhythm here. That would be far too easy. Rhythm is routine, and routine is mindless, and mindless… that is to say mindsdlessness is… mindlessism? Ähhh…
Whatever. Fuck ’im. Never ever will I blog once a week. Not on my life. Not even on yours. If you find it confusing, tough titty in the big city, as my parents used to say.
Listening to Chipatapata, from Thomas Mapfumo

Advertisements

Hop, Skip…

The horrible thing about a blog is, you have to figure out something to write every few days, otherwise no swine will visit your fucking blog because they are all so damned impatient and constantly bored that their attention-span amounts to the length of a hunch-backed flea.
piglet-275973_640
So, here I sit, thinking about what to write, and not a damned thing occurs to my somewhat addled brain on this fine Monday morning. I hate Mondays. Which reminds me of a Banksy piece. For those of you who don’t know it: tough shit. For those of you who do: tough shit. 
Just the Way it Goes from Jaya the Cat.
 Now that we have dispensed with the cancel (ehhh, I hate it when my fingers type something they think I meant when I meant something completely different) CYNICAL formalities, how about a drink? 
And a jump.