A New Philosophy For May 1st

1 May

For years and years, I have been in a terrible mood. This is less true if I am drunk and not listening to commercials on Spotify (a music streaming service offering digitally restricted streaming of selected music from a range of major and independent record labels, includingSonyEMIWarner Music Group, and Universal [the preceding text was knicker-knockered directly from Wikipedia in an attempt to tell you what Spotify is]). At the beginning of the last sentence I ignored a common rule for demonstrative pronouns because Spotify was waiting. If you forgive me or have a question to ask me, why are you here?

Thanks!

“Please say a prayer and a sentiential sentence for me, or I will hurt and die.” —User:Centrx

Thanks to a herniated Wikipedia administrator, Downton Abbey, the new buzz of Doritos Locos Tacos (everyone is Tweeting about them), Apple iPad, and cats never die, I have a new philosophy about the world and cats. Lauryn Hill doesn’t want me to cover Doo Wop in 3/4 because I’m not… and she has proposed the following questions:

                                                                  –User:Centrx

It’s like that man, it’s like that, it’s like that man, it’s like that! Clap your hands now.

“THAT’S WHY M. TAMERE CALLS THE AMERICAN PEOPLE’S BODY TYPICAL LOOK AN ‘ABOMINATION OF THE HUMANITY ON THE PLANET EARTH’, CHECK OUT YOUR SKULL AND YOUR OVERALL BODY STRUCTURE AND SKELETON EVOLUTION SINCE YOU IMMIGRATED FROM EUROPE. IT’S MUTING, ITS [sic] GETTING BIGGER AND GROSS, AND NO IT’S NOT HEALTHY ITS [sic] ABNORMAL GROWTH DUE TO THE EXTENSIVE HORMONES AND CHEMICALS INFUSION YOU’ALL SUBJECTED TO.”

A Racist Blog on BlogSpot

“Jede sekunde bedeutet nichts als eine Bewegung: ein Schritt zur Seite, den Stuhl in dreißig Zentimeter Entfernung hinsetzen, dreimal mit dem Lappen darüberwischen. ein halbe Drehung nach rechts, zwei Schritte vorwärts; jede Sekunde hat ihre Bedeutung, vollkommen gleichmäßig, makellos.”

–Flawless, non-free text information.

Cat Lurch

Inside a storm drain there is the skeleton of our lost cat. Her skull knows, full of cat knowledge, that we will never find her. For her killings she is serving a sentence of immobility, which is the most terrifying thing for a cat.

She has not left her bones because cats never do. And there are cats in bags, at the bottom of rivers. They are watching dead fish that sink to the river beds. Segements of their tails slipping downstream. This is torture for the cats. They are stalking the currents, trying to catch the patterns. When a river leaf twirls before them, they can only watch.

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