Up for a laugh? Lessons I’ve learned through some schooling is that you cannot upstage Satan at his own show. Especially if you lack the lineage. I blame the free popcorn and goodies on the usher. And laughing at everything might be a safe start. Subject matter is always useful for a comedian trying to avoid that closing darkness but nothing down-trodden like sex or religion for instance. We would not want the Karma Sutra to be misconstrued. Having the results before you, how do you plead? Guilty as created … to laugh at others doing it, like animals. Time and again. Expecting sublime beings to emerge from such unions in future. I beg your pardon, my theodicy seems tainted. It must be the salt. Always a first. I remember.
Someone told me there are clever people and deeply, funny people. Perhaps I’ve given up on disturbing wisdom. The best news I’ve come across this week is that the trucks from the breweries are in mint condition. Thank God the beers will arrive safely. That’s right! Don’t feel guilty at having to stop for more booze on your way back from school. Just get chocolates for the children. The pedantry of some pedophiles … F*ck! Almost forget the valiant effort of the Zambians reforesting.
Did I find a place where one could rid yourself of reason once upon a mad Monday, a secret council away from all that calculated turmoil we labor.
Last night Vlismas led the load. Best bus I’ve taken thus far. No excuses. This raving lunatic had me roaring. The others had moments of brilliance too but a tickle should be, I think, relentless. And this animated rendition of our lives brought a shunned hyena with a wounded crow whispering sweet nothings in his ear to mind. Followed by that ominous chuckle across the savannah. Why mess with an African formula for survival.
Attendance was poor however, hardly worth a single gunman’s efforts. Could have taken out the entire City Press though … Slacker! Where is an able fanatic willing to kill when you need one? But on the seventh day the theatre might be full or as it miraculously goes with religion like in Wayne’s World: name them and they will rise.
71 words and a LOL in no time left. No time to search the spelling of some comic’s name. They call it the end of a supposed working day. With all the numbers I fancy I could go esoteric on their arses … Fill up some empty spaces with jargon. Humble a few cocks in a matter of seconds by not only changing but saving the world one tweet at a time. Positivism … go figure. No overtime granted for a spell check. No pay. No free lunch. It sucks not being able to take yourself to court and file for negligence. O lord, not the measure of your misery again. Quiet! I believe I found my penultimate calling so to speak.
Maybe I should leave a complete review for the finale when no seats with freebies are vacant or misallocated to those that take things too seriously, conveniently forgetting all characters in this piece are fictitious by default.
Adriaan
Kommentaar
Moet 'labor' nie 'labour' wees nie?