For as long as I can remember, I’ve had the same telephone number. I inherited my first mobile number from my dad. It’s stored under my name on hundreds of different types of digital platforms. Sometimes it will have the associated title, ‘Bernie’ or ’Sweet cheeks’, 'Candidate or Anonymous User' and sometimes just, ‘weird guy from bar, don’t answer’.
The pinnacle of this demonstration would be seeing this big bird with its long legs slip and slide across the icy surface. The video documentation of this is essential. The 'bird out of its cage' meme would hopefully bring in some funds to raise awareness of Ostriches suffering in Antarctica and also be spread on the internet to market the exhibition.
I’ve never been drawn to feminist rhetoric. Not that I don’t think its important and an incredibly valuable discourse to advance the predicament of the human specie. The reason for my dislike is most likely because I harbor guilty feelings for millennia of suppression along with actually knowing full well that what I say and think isn’t always right, more grounded or a more logical solution just because I was born and raised as penis carrier.
The self driving car is on its way. When we say ‘self driving’, we naturally assume that some quite essential central circuitry in this wheeled craft will be ingeniously programmed and then assume full control of all the car’s operations and by default, your life.
During our sleep cycle we make a couple of hundred minute little movements. This excludes the incredibly entertaining yet alien and absurd soundtrack that accompanies us in this unconscious state.
In broad, these categories are: the diaphragm flexing glottal groaner, the infamous locked-jaw horse blower, the sudden rapturous yet staccato inhaler, the quick cough burst-er, the sexy sigh-er, the almost incomprehensible chatter who includes at least one recognizable word. Then there's off course the plethora of different...
Since I’ve owned a car, I’ve also owned a pair of windshield wipers. But waaaay before that, there were pamphlets and the people who distribute them. When out and about, pamphlets are handed to you with the actual instruction of, “I’d prefer it if YOU go and throw this away, sir. I just don’t have time right now as I’m standing here handing people these little pieces of paper that I want them to throw away, sir”.
Even though I don’t wear make-up, or haven’t applied eyeliner for quite some time, I live with someone who does…do their face. The process of applying the perfectly even layer of base, puffs of eye shadow that does not swallow or smoke the eyes out, mascara, eyeliner, lipstick and gloss and finally a dash of rouge to the cheeks, takes as long as it would take me to wash, dry, comb and style my hair if my whole body was covered in the stuff.
So dear Facebook, let's bring that starving coyote of truth into the sheep pen. Let’s let him have his night of righteous slaughter in the pale light of our misconceptions of what the flock are actually grazing at.
However desperate we as consumers are to throw our wages back into the endlessly gushing tide of commerce, we somehow seem not to be caught and reeled in by catchphrases like, “not that bad if you consider…”, “we’re just trying to do our best and get by” or “we should be offering a better service but this mediocre attempt is all we’ve got at the moment, so there”.
Rudy is a boy of about ten years old. He is the light and love of everyone. When he was brought into the world it went ‘kablooey’. Rudy is a little chubby but has a smile that ignites a room and a presence that makes grown men weep with joy.
He brings happiness, laughter, dancing and singing wherever he goes and he sure does get around.
Rudy actually is summoned like a goofy angel to those events, historic or everyday, where he is needed.