Not the first...

There's so much sense in the world that its sometimes baffling. So, in my best slipshod, broken english I have tried to convey er... stuff.

Wise old nipponese saying that I just made up,
"Life is like an orange, peel it for the juice within."

Now,  read on.

Onbus, inbus , redbus, buses with ladders, x double dot is increasing, and the dodo can not even reply to that.
To do or not to do, why is that a question?

Wouldn’t a cooked dodo be analogous to a stuffed tharki?

Good morning, to people so good, people so sad, people in people, and those in the bad.

So you’re twenty two? No, I’m twenty too. That’s what I said. Okay, we’re fine then.

Quiet reflection by us strong, silent people can lead to some rather expected conclusions. Un?

Written matter is that of zeros and ones, but bleeds and marks wait for no one, least of all some highly overdue chancellors and all their associated paraphernalia. What a way to get work done, no wonder some set standards by institutions like ours.

As it would be, devices in communicado choose a strange time (but coherent, completely so) to go defunct, sometimes mute, at other times allowing me usage of hallows of sacred communication.

Worried looking inspectors with malfunctioning pectorals bashing open doors, innuendoes fly everywhere, people heltering and skeltering. Very inspiring. The jokes are lame enough now, thank you.

The hallows were venerated and the bells tolled. ‘tisn’t a wonder heads hadn’t rolled. With so many people in the pot, the orgy was rather orgic, with big guys and their flying locks, and hallowed names turning into versions spawned by cradles of filth, god alone knows why they did not take a line out. I forgot, okay, I’m human.  Jeez.
Four strings for a lifetime. Nah, sounds better in native hindi.

Beera, beera, beera a guy’s gotta have balls to  do that kind of stuff. I admire such persistence. Limpet like, some might call it, others going so far as to brand them a leech, a desperate kind of chappie. But then, even ranjha was that kinda fella, wasn’t he? Just don’t sing in the bathroom, will you? You’ve got culture to handle, now.

Seccie is now ex, with a dopy and a joint in tow. What will classic do? The file handlers are parameters with random seed variables, but even that is ultimately a pseudorandom serie. We now have bodom, and jhat, and heaven knows a lot more, but which ones will take up the mantle. Wait, what mantle?

So if we have miniature dodos, is it all right to call him dad again?

Why me? This one says. But he’s the mos’t illustrious one, mind you. Never trust these whiny ones, I tell you. Just ask him to spout that hindi of his. Bloody bhasha ka saudagar. Just get him some java, tell him to change his scale and send him off to waves.

One small step for man, one giant leap for some others. (please don’t hit me.) A proclivity for physical comebacks only limited by the amount of torque one can muster. After all, r x F has to be small if r is…

A positive slew of birthdays this season, not much to rant about, but still. The planning among the amazonians include intricate (often) effectively planned efforts (still don’t know who ‘miss 100% attendance’ was, though.) while we neanthertals prefer a sound bash (by us), followed by a sound bash (by the unlucky feller who survived to tell another year’s tale). C’est la vie.

Speaking of which, that craphunt of ours gave us the opportunity to examine said waves in much more detail. Only wish I could be on those crests, going up and down, up and down…

Heterosexual company should be made mandatory, under grounds of illusionary sanity and what I can only call ‘groundedness’.

So you’re asleep, or comatose, isn’t it comma-toes.

Even nonsense has syntax, semantic is the rabble that defines chaos. Ordo ab chao, and all that.

There, there. too bad, so sad, better luck next time.

If you’re despairing as to why this isn’t making any sense, well my dear friend, your only problem is that you’re sane.

To talk about ‘anything, any damn thing’, has resulted in a phantasmagoria, ‘oops, stole chinker’s word, but it matters not, as this ‘ain’t a statement of purpose I’m typing. The infinite improbability of life, the universe and everything has resulted in a supply of topics that shalt not run out, in a mortal lifetime, at least. Anyone interested may contribute to the guide. For all that we talk about, well, there’s always that point when we finish, but there is no such thing as the end.

And another thing…