And then . . .
I find myself completely degenerating into silliness. First, I open up my mail to find a forwarded joke: “What do you get when you cross a feminist and a lawyer? A lawyer who won’t fuck you.”
This of course, in an obtuse way reminded me of the illustration at the right forwarded during my first (to my knowledge), and hopefully last entrance on the Daypop top 40 (at number 27). Today, I found this there:
“Spontaneous interruption of a public sex act to engage in an aggravated assault should be considered as a strong indication of a seriously unaddressed anger management problem,” the complaint states.
Which, circuitously, led me to discover that Gene Simmons plans to be Rock’s Martha Stewart. Which reminded me of a potential future feminist lawyer’s musings: Duo Ranti: Marta Esteeuar e Cultura Corporati Putanissima.
The web is surely a wondrous place. Vowel movements galore. Shite, too much time in the Latinate does drive me back to the Saxon.
—And then . . . Australians have teleportation breakthrough! Wow, now maybe I will be able to visit Luke and Shauny someday soon! And perhaps Delacour too. Now that would be some spooky interaction. I’d much rather have a transporter than an XP-38 landspeeder. You can beam me over anytime.
Punch the keys for god’s sake! You’re the man now dog!