It’s February in Ontario during a pandemic. If this isn’t the time for comic relief…
Amen to that. Add moving day to the agenda and still have room for comic relief? The cats are coming. I hope they’re funny.
There’s always room for humour. Are you moving out or are they moving in? If you provide the set up they’ll provide the punch lines.
Incoming. The issue is how to fit two realities in the house and insist on no little buggers.
I imagine Rancho Trioono as one reality and its inhabitants as personalities with differing perceptions of that reality. Bridging perceptions can be as daunting as merging little buggers. The challenge is crossing paths on the stairs while transitioning between floors.
That is an imaginative perception. Trioono does not extend further than my desk. I mostly get to listen. We’ve had FUN with The Malarkey Scale here but otherwise the perception is that I am simply Against God while making frequent thumpy sounds downstairs.
I prefer a fairly normal household reality like most folks. My perception of q-a-nonsense and the pandemic will rule this ranch. I needed to put that on the record. And I can bounce bromo of the main page.
Besides, trioon is a bridge to a common reality for everyone. Assuming anyone wants that.
On the plus side…the forum periodically offers an entertaining and rare experience for the senses. And, for that, we are fortunate.
Even the Jar Monkey. Very few humans can say they actually caught a glimpse of Darwin’s waiting room.
Thanks for sticking around and being a part of it.
I’m a glutton for punishment.
What if The Last Supper had originally taken place on April Fool’s Day?
On the Third Day when Jesus reappeared to the Apostles, He said, “Admit it, suckers! I totally had you guys!”
“Jesus Christ!” the apostles exclaimed. “My God where the hell have you been?”
Jesus looked around at what appeared to be a three day bender in his absence. “Son of God actually but I’m changing my name. I am so sick of this crap. My dad is such an asshole. This is the last straw.”
“We have plenty of straw” said Simon. We stormed the Capitol. You missed it. It was awesome!” The others interrupted to say they’d also changed their names and denounced all their belongings.
“Did we do good Jesus? Steal from the rich give to the poor. Just like you said. Best cult ever am I right?”
“Oh sure sure,” Jesus said shaking his head.
“Good Lord this feels amazing! We are gonna live forever! Where were you by the way?”
“That’s Robin Hood you idiots! And I said resurrection not insurrection. Forget it. Textbook Apostle Privilege. I’m going to Mecca.”
From the valley of sadness to the peak of the hill
The insufferable madness that is plaguing us still
All the well to do havers get to spit in the face
Of the roundabout travellers getting lost in the race
Left out in the cold where you don’t have a name
Unlike those with the gold where rules aren’t the same
Daring to dream means to shut up and hide
As the stream trickles down holding secrets inside
Living the life of the privileged elite
Saves sour and strife and makes everything sweet
But all out of touch from the pampering spoil
As the folks without much make the simmering boil
Who watch as they wait with the patience of saints
And the powerful state owns the picture it paints
Rewriting the law while the getting is good
With the sharp angry claw of a man with a hood
When a generation dividing time never learns
All the columns of men were diminished returns
Forced to leave classes with nowhere to go
Living lives with the masses the rich never know
The view from the mountain lasts only so long
But the new fangled fountain is coming on strong
And no matter your station twelve waters away
From the state of your nation to the matters at bay
The dreary of days make the sleepless nights dark
And the thinnest of rays are insanity’s mark
Like the warmth of the sun brings you out of the cold
And the lies are undone so the truth can be told
When the teller of tales can decide what we say
Then the well is for sale and no one moulds the clay
Enjoying the pleasure of inflicting some pain
In a world of good measure where streets are all main.