It’s been a while since I posted this song, um, ^^^ that song. Five times a decade maybe. So probably not on prosebox at all, which probably means it hasn’t been here at all. The vast majority of mamals on this planet are no where near as taken with this song as I am. It’s not like there’s a great diversity of mammals on prosebox or any journaling sites. Cats, for instance, hate idle chatter or disclosure and they really don’t go in for social shit in general except for fights and orgies. Unless you are a cat it’s very hard to tell which is which. If you are a cat it’s possible that I meant no offense, unlikely, but possible, wait to see if any blue monkeys fly out of my ass and then you’ll know for sure.
So, yeah, I’m starting to get nervous about the whole upcoming gruesome dental debacle. I’m going to let that sentence just sit there like a bug on the windshield.
Why is it that the weather app on my phone is so fucking fascinating? The Doppler reminds me of this lady who used to do one minute spots during late night, not sure if they were national or local to Portland. Miss Cleo I think is what she called herself, she had this fake Jamaican accent, shit, maybe it was real but she couldn’t maintain it for a full minute on a medium that allows you to edit tape. She was a psychic, wait, no, the spirits are telling me she was a psychic. That might have been a little funny, but the intent was more demonstrative. If you listened to the commercial instead of getting up to pee or pop corn (so you didn’t miss any part of I was a Teenage Zombie) you realized in every “real” example, she was predicting the past. That’s how the Doppler works on my phone, it shows what happened from a half hour ago up to the present. Spend a half an hour at my window and you get the same thing, locally at least.
It is national so I could, for instance, call up my kids and say “Sorry about that rain a half an hour ago” of course they are both in Oregon, I could hit better than fifty percent, on an average year, but just doing that randomly throughout the week. If you knew someone who could predict the future with a .500 batting average you’d call them psychic. Predicting the past? They should be batting 1000.
So, other shit is happening elsewhere. It’s an educated guess but I will bet the farm on it. Another couple smaller bugs on the windshield.
You should probably refill your wiper fluid.
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