Showing posts with label crass. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crass. Show all posts
Monday, 7 May 2012
The First
As it was said, or was not said to me, the world is one man’s blunderbuss as it is another man’s buttered toast. You can try and mix it all together, wield it forth as a sharpened weapon, or if you like it can be enjoyed at your leisure. It needn’t surprise me or you that anything that’s said nowadays can be labeled as genius or complete bollocks. It centrally has nothing whatsoever, a cormorant’s fart on Tuesday, to do with what was said or written, but is graded by what others say back about it. You’re typical tripe is still typically tripe, but the guided in gold legend that is created for it by a plethora of thirteen to fifteen year olds it taken as market standard. I wish I’d had the time to banty on more about this, but I probably will, so lest yourself move away from your cotton trousers for the day, I’ll pick this up another time. Indeed. SH
Labels:
blather,
bully,
crass,
divine wackering,
drone,
idle bumfartery,
opinion,
public snotterings,
rubbish,
tine,
toss,
waller,
writing
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