Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Casual gestures can invigorate your presentation.

This wisdom goes beyond the beginning and into the very winnowing of sin. Therein lies the quintessential rub of the ages, the very heart of all that is holy, so forth and so on. This world's friction bears witness to the unforgiving conditions we wrest with daily. What soundness in our girth gives us allowance to ponder such origins? Perhaps only the scant flicker of an eyelid can contain the endless stream of interpretation that is existence in this waking life. But soft, what struggle from yonder scene beckons to thee? 'Tis only one that you have brought with you.

"Oh yeah?" blurted Snurkle, balancing his Vietnam-era B-15 bomber fuselage between his glue-splattered cephalopod-like appendages. "I bet YOU think EVERYONE just loves your psuedo-spiritual claptrap splattering against the walls of their ideologies!"

"Um, it's not quite like that..."

"Maybe for YOU, but for the rest of us carbon-based life forms," Snurkle hesitated, turned and spat an unidentifiable object into the next room, then returned to his diatribe. "With such sanctimonious drivel the writer is literally urinating on the reader. I'll have no part of it!"

"Snurkle, don't you think you're overstating it a bit?"

The model plane part snapped with a loud report. the beast stared at the broken bits of plastic in his hands.

"I really don't think so," he said sighed, "but if you insist, I'll downgrade it to farting on the reader."

"Gee, I feel less cornholed than ever! Thank you ever so deeply, mollusk-breath!"

"I'm just trying to save us all some time, Flintstone," Snurkle replied," After all, my stock is down, and chillin' with you ain't exactly a futures investment, despite the fact I am a product of your imagination."