Still recovering from the stinging lashes of witty critics from the back of beyond, or first world countries as they're otherwise called. Anyways, what do you who sit in your air conditioned, un power cutted jazzy coffee places on gay street know about the conditions this writer has to struggle out of on a daily basis just to crawl upto this blog in order to get a breath of fresh air or a forum for expression. Here where they say "Off With their heads" before you even get a word in edgeways, this poor persecuted lizard/scribe has had to resort to various means, devious, nefarious and otherwise, merely to get a word in, out, or around, as the case may be. Before I hit upon this priceless parcel of post, you might have heard of me under such pseudonyms as: Isaac Bickerstaff, A Dissenter, A Person of Quality, A Person of Honour, M.B. Drapier, T.R.D.J.S.D.O.P.I.I.
yeah yeah I know i'm not proud, but then i'm not any of the above either.
incidentally the chronic allusiveness and intertextuality of this post is at an all time high.
Go ahead, swing home reaper, the golden wheat sways all the way to the guillotine, dancing to its lone last lilting song.
1 comment:
ah the long awaited downfall of the lone caped crusader who does not wear her chaddis over everything else muah haha haha ha (unbelievably evil and sinister laughter)... the battle continues...
or does it? (undearably evil grin)
Post a Comment