penguins are useless

P4 plays an on-line game where her avatar is a penguin. Today her penguin was required to do mining. Mining. How the hell is a penguin supposed to mine ore from under the earth? How do you hold a 100 pound hydraulic drill against the rock face with flippers. Stubby fin-flippers.

Plus they are not very tall. What if the gold or uranium or asbestos or whatever they were mining was up high. Well that would mean they dug too far. Stupid penguins.

If you’re going to use animals to perform hard rock mining operations what I want to see is a screaming monkey driving a team of crazed rhinoceros (or bison), which have been force-fed a diet of raw meat and gunpowder (to make them edgy), dragging a hollowed-out elephant carcass full of ore out of the pit.

Oh, see them straining against their chains as the monkey, high on gin and a quarter hit of yellow dot blotter acid, rides their backs cursing them and hitting them with a railway spike he found. See the great beasts haul that dusty carcass full of rock a vertical mile from the depths of the dark dank earth into the blinding white world above, eyes red and wild, nostrils snorting, hooves bloody and cracked.

Then a penguin gives them a smoke, a cup of coffee and a fresh monkey and back they go.

Jive Mouse

My mouse refuses to work at work.

My blue-toothed mouse refuses to scurry while at my place of employment.

It works at home.

I even use a stupid foam mouse-pad. It doesn’t help.

Just makes you look conventional. The same people who use mouse pads leave their phone on the original factory ringtone. It has to be good cause a factory picked it.

The traditional foam mouse pad is a limiting device. Part of the ongoing plan. Another way the Man keeps his finger on you. What if, just what if, even though I have my speed way up high, I reach the end of the mouse pad before I reach the edge of the screen? I have two wide screens to span and only 6 ½ inches of mouse pad to operate on. If I fall off it’s right onto white acrylic and no damn mouse can operate on that except a steam powered ball mouse with its filthy sickly-grey ball all covered in desk grime and semen (if the desk was near semen).

You’re only chance is the tricky and dangerous Pull Back Like A Lemming With Second Thoughts manoeuvre. You make a motion like a kid winding up a zoom-zoom car. Up, out, back and down. Slam. Sometimes it wakes people up and then they look at you all…like that and shit.

Hey I want a mouse that looks like the Starsky and Hutch car. Then it would be ok I guess. If it came with a Huggy Bear action figure.

Super Improved New Flavour

It's too bad you can't eat children.

It would solve a lot of problems with the poor countries.

It's not that you can't eat them. I mean there's no tough skin, it's not all gristle. I bet some of the pudgy ones would slice up like butter. But there's the taboo.

It's right there in the book:

Always fornicate outside the family but within the species, and don't eat children.

That was practical advice at one time. Early computer modelling predicted if a society ate all it's children there would soon be a shortage of society members to boss around. A whole army of marketing executives would be out of work and on the streets, begging for a demographic.

But these are tough times, things have changed. Poor kids don't buy anything. You often see them fetching water or languishing by a tin shack, but neither of these things has market value. That's not to say you couldn't get the kid to fetch some water before you eat it. That's called value-adding. The potential is enormous. Many children can even be trained to perform simple tasks around the home.

In the olden days they'd send kids down mines and up chimneys, all sorts of places. But they didn't eat them later because all the work made them tough and stringy despite a diet of straight porridge.

Best to get one or two fresh from the market, get them home to fetch some water and do some light dusting, then pop 'em right in the oven. If you were feeling ironic you could get them to peel the potatoes first.

This would provide income for the poor countries so they could buy stuff like proper people and eliminate the need for cows which make the global warming happen. Children do fart, but not as much as cows. On the other hand cows don't giggle uncontrollably afterwards.

filtered robots and shit

Fucking hell, I’m back. Shit. How’d I get back here to this cursed place?

I shall tell you. I went through an extensive maze of IT comedy where I had to re-establish an old email address in order to receive an email with my SJ password because even though I remember it, yon blogger does not. All so I could re-establish control of this puny malformed, possibly subversive, mostly stupid, fucking, blog.

Those godamn robot filters where you have to type in the twisty letters make good fucking people filters too. I guarantee nobody on acid ever posts.

Much has happened since we last spoke. I have had several haircuts. There was an earthquake in Chile.

P4 grew up, married a jet salesman, had an affair with a jet pilot-slash-instructor, learned to fly a jet, divorced the jet salesman, lost the pilot to a gay astronaut, moved back home, grew back down again and forgot how to fly a jet. But it’s ok, I got her to write most of it down first.

The trebuchet has been dismantled. I used some of the wood to make a screen door. I have no enemies to vanquish at the moment and the mosquitoes are bad this year.

I know what you’re thinking, but it’s hard to hit a mosquito with a trebuchet. This is why they were not eradicated in the Middle Ages.

Just as well, think of the mess we’d be in if Malaria didn’t thin out the screen-less. The place is already a mess and there’s too damn many of us as it is.

One or more of you may have to look at other options.

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end, chapter one.