Jun 7, 2011
How I Die In The Future #2
After getting divorced from my wife, when i'm 46 (2035), I don't care about much. I don't have a kid because she was baren (and that was a constant sore point) and I don't have a good job, so i'm not really independent. I go out to some dinners and go on singles' websites. i jack off a lot too, i enjoy myself in a certain boyish way.
anyway, one day i just had a really shit day and couldn't bare to go back to work, so i went and jumped off the story bridge and smashed myself into pieces on the concrete bikepath below. when i was about to do it, some person was in the hotel that looks onto the spot and they screamed out at me, but i gave them the ups right before i jumped.
anyway, one day i just had a really shit day and couldn't bare to go back to work, so i went and jumped off the story bridge and smashed myself into pieces on the concrete bikepath below. when i was about to do it, some person was in the hotel that looks onto the spot and they screamed out at me, but i gave them the ups right before i jumped.
Jun 5, 2011
My Death, In the Future #1
I walked out of the lift and looked left and looked right. Though the street was crowded, my bionic-communal-interactive-eyepiece scanned the people and saw nobody i knew at all, not even any mutual friends.
Another crap start to the day, I thought. Another crappy day of being a fucking loser. When I was younger, I was a pretty popular guy and I'd embraced the new media paradigm. I'd thought this would be the way of the future and was propelled by the excitement of something new.
Well, it is the way of the future, but all my friends are pastimists. they all dislike more than the basic handheld devices, which became outmoded years ago, but which still retain some vintage credence. Theirs tastes are cabled into this vintage aesthetic, but they also have the political conjohns to back it up and basically, after too many arguments, we've all drifted apart.
Now I live alone and like I said, I don't know a single person on the street.
Twelve hours later, I come back home and think, "I should do it oldschool, I should take the stairs... at least some of the way." I think a few flights will do me good and I can use the slow speed of the fire escelator to think about my future and what I can realistically do with it.
I'm riding up past the 39th floor, looking down at the receding ground. tenants aren't strictly supposed to ride the escelator unless it's an emergency.... but what the hell! live a little, right!
I notice something coming up at me, it's a secbot, which is a flying robot about the size of a basketball that has an artificial intelligence wiring and conducts security in our block. it's one of about twenty angry buzzards and this one suuuure iiiis aannnggrrryyy.
well, i think to myself, i'll not let myself be bossed around by some metal computer scrotum. when the machine gets to me, i try to slap it out of the air. it dodges me and i slap again. i slap too far and still don't connect. furthermore, i'm unbalance. i topple over the edge of the escelator and fall down, 41 flights of stairs.
the secbot tries to save me, but it gets crushed underneath me and we both die, man and machine in a horribly new cyborg form.
Another crap start to the day, I thought. Another crappy day of being a fucking loser. When I was younger, I was a pretty popular guy and I'd embraced the new media paradigm. I'd thought this would be the way of the future and was propelled by the excitement of something new.
Well, it is the way of the future, but all my friends are pastimists. they all dislike more than the basic handheld devices, which became outmoded years ago, but which still retain some vintage credence. Theirs tastes are cabled into this vintage aesthetic, but they also have the political conjohns to back it up and basically, after too many arguments, we've all drifted apart.
Now I live alone and like I said, I don't know a single person on the street.
Twelve hours later, I come back home and think, "I should do it oldschool, I should take the stairs... at least some of the way." I think a few flights will do me good and I can use the slow speed of the fire escelator to think about my future and what I can realistically do with it.
I'm riding up past the 39th floor, looking down at the receding ground. tenants aren't strictly supposed to ride the escelator unless it's an emergency.... but what the hell! live a little, right!
I notice something coming up at me, it's a secbot, which is a flying robot about the size of a basketball that has an artificial intelligence wiring and conducts security in our block. it's one of about twenty angry buzzards and this one suuuure iiiis aannnggrrryyy.
well, i think to myself, i'll not let myself be bossed around by some metal computer scrotum. when the machine gets to me, i try to slap it out of the air. it dodges me and i slap again. i slap too far and still don't connect. furthermore, i'm unbalance. i topple over the edge of the escelator and fall down, 41 flights of stairs.
the secbot tries to save me, but it gets crushed underneath me and we both die, man and machine in a horribly new cyborg form.
New Job Poems
Just got a new job, here are some poems i thought of to commemmorrate this event.
Working Sucks
Getting Paid Rules!!!
SMOKO
Having smoko's really fun
eating up a sticky bun
you can drink a can of coke
we can all be good blokes
Working Sucks
Getting Paid Rules!!!
SMOKO
Having smoko's really fun
eating up a sticky bun
you can drink a can of coke
we can all be good blokes
At the bus stop was sat two Africans, a brother and a sister. they both had tight jeans on and were eating macdonalds and chilling, waiting for the bus.
the sister was the older one and she pulled out her ipod and put some music on.
a white lady, in her late 20s and with a black linen frock and hairy/scratched legs went and sat next to them. she gave them a quick smile as she sat down. she was also listening to her ipod.
after ten minutes, a bus to inala came and the two kids got on. the white lady stayed seated and i checked her out again, hoping that even though i wasn't attracted to her she'd still look over to me and i'd get that cool eye contact.
Later on that evening, the african kids were having dinner at home...
"that lady who sat next to us stunk, could you smell her?"
"no, what did she smell like?"
"gross, like i dunno, a hippie. she smelled like west end"
"yuck, i hate that. i bet she felt cool sitting next to us"
"they always do"
"I know, they do"
the sister was the older one and she pulled out her ipod and put some music on.
a white lady, in her late 20s and with a black linen frock and hairy/scratched legs went and sat next to them. she gave them a quick smile as she sat down. she was also listening to her ipod.
after ten minutes, a bus to inala came and the two kids got on. the white lady stayed seated and i checked her out again, hoping that even though i wasn't attracted to her she'd still look over to me and i'd get that cool eye contact.
Later on that evening, the african kids were having dinner at home...
"that lady who sat next to us stunk, could you smell her?"
"no, what did she smell like?"
"gross, like i dunno, a hippie. she smelled like west end"
"yuck, i hate that. i bet she felt cool sitting next to us"
"they always do"
"I know, they do"
May 14, 2011
wow, something new and cool
Hey, just thought I would let all my read-derrs know.... that i made a new blog...not that this one is ever retired or something, but just to let you know that for your reading and ocular pleasures there is a new website called http://grossfood-buckethats.tumblr.com/ that you can look at for all your gross looking food or bucket hat pleasures. I hope that you enjoy it, all the best.
Theo
Theo
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