Read These Now as I Teeter Near The Precipice

I have not felt like compiling my links of this, that or the other because everything bores the fuck out of me. Sorta. I try to stay current and aware but toiling in the dirt cleanses me more than linking to some political malfeasance. I have been in a horrid mood and when such a mood occurs, I retreat. I toil, hoping that clarity will occur. Sometimes it does. More than oft, I am left with dirty fingernails. In an imaginary land, I would navigate a winding path along a precipice in these Givenchy cowboy boots and unicorns would fly out of my gay ass. Since the boots are out of my budget at the moment, I will have to journey near the precipice with leopard mules and Indian wedding slippers. Poor me.

Let's see if I fall.

Since Twitter is the most important conduit of ALL INFORMATION, Texas Gov. Rick Perry wants you to know about "killer tacos." The always aware, Gov. Sarah Palin tweets about her Iraq visit. When I have my next bowel movement, I might update my Twitter feed. I would update it with that important information but it won't connect. What ever will I do? Meh...

Since Gov. Perry mentioned tacos, the food of choice for this evening at Casa Petulant, I pause.

Ya know what bores me more than Twitter, headlines like this: American Idol runner up Adam Lambert 'to address sexuality rumours.' That's a hard one. Is my heterosexual glam-rock singer illusion shattered? Say it ain't so! My simple ears require more wholesome, guitar-oriented sentimental pop. What ever will I do?

OH! That bores me too. I am lovin' Aranis these days. This is what I miss. Here I go with the endless links to YouTube videos instead of important news. What ever will I do? Hmm... I'll link to wherever my fetching shoes take me. The precipice is wider than I thought.

Do I dare link to one of those "British" newspapers? Even though they all report the same news about Sri Lanka. Thankfully, the Washington Post covers it, quoting BRITISH sources. I was worried there for a second. The Washington Post keeps my American media dreams alive. Newsmax, here I come.

I have to pause for a second. The endless pause. Myléne is on the other monitor. I was playing her Live at Bercy 2006 concert and it is near the finale where she sings, Fuck Them All, with the delicious dance troop, Los Vivancos. Once I finish listening to my anthem and patting my brow with a hankie, I will resume.

Speaking of Myléne, she offers a Sextonik dildo. Love her.

Theorists reveal path to true muonium. If anyone says anything about "exotic states of matter," I am so there. I may be a simple lad with a few bits and pieces that might converge for a semblance of matter, but you creatures of a scientific bent astound me. We so need more of you.

Prepare for the climate change deniers to latch to Pisaster ochraceus. The STARFISH are okay. Uhh-huh.

The poor whales.

And I feel even worse for the "Space Monkeys."

I teeter very close to the precipice now and bid adieu. Fare thee well, kittens.


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