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The chronicles of Ruin, continued. Call me Ishmael said....intelligence is knowing what to do when you don't know what to do. Anonymous said... When I don't know what to do,I come here. 10 September 2009 22:59
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12 comments:
When Dylan's whinings first came out, and we had to pretend we liked them, I had a Jewish girlfriend (very hot stuff). It was at the time of the first Arab-Isreal war. I remember thinking this would all end in tears.
And so it came to pass.
Vindictive,ungallant, spiteful and one-dimensional, i thought Positively Fourth Street an anthem parfait for our current crop of goons and shirtheads.
They fucking love it, don't they? Death From Above. Doing the Wogslot Strut. Cunts.
Colleagues in Ishmaelia,
Is there cause for concern regarding our great leader, Mr. Ishmael? He appears not to have posted since the 19th March, which, for one as prolific as he, is a considerable time. His lengthy absence in 2010 or was it 2009 - (time is so confusing these days)was a dreary desert and I do trust that he is not contemplating a similar absence, nor, Deo Volente, has had one thrust upon him.
Dear Mr FbnG, there's a big old garden to take care of up there - could be that. I wouldn't worry overmuch just yet.
I think, fellow Ishmaelites, we may begin to worry after two weeks of silence. And I am trusting that he has better things to do than provide us with a glorious purgative on the unglorious doings of sockpuppets and madmen.
Oh, and Mr Verge, your bitterly delicious little nursery rhyme is ideally suited for reading on the evening tellynews. Public service broadcasting, I'd call that.
Thanks, Mr PTB. And I agree - a good fortnight hostless before we need to fret.
His garden is mildy on the epic side. Geez, just mowing the thing would take a few days. Yowzers.
Whistling in the dark, dear fellow Ishmaelites, yet you have not yet conjured up He Who Profanes. I believe it is time to start worrying.
In his own sweet time, Mr Forgotten, as befits.
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