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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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3 comments:
Thank-you for that, Mr Ishmael.
True Story 27: I was a boy in Preston once. A budding engineer among budding gobby lawyers. We were drinking beer and eating those flat bread cake chip butty things. There was an arsehole pontificating across the bar. One of our band wrote upon a piece of paper "the soles of my feet...", walked across the bar and handed the guy the note. I am not sure myself what it meant but the poor bastard shut the fuck up.
If you cannot bring good news then don't bring any.
Spooky, that Old Testament stuff. I love it.
We good Catholic boys have no need of the Old Testament, Mr Ishmael. We are washed in the blood of the New Testament lamb. But in any case all that twas in another lifetime.
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