Random thoughts thread

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Thats straight out of Educating Rita that is!

Lol
Keep it healthy.

Warpaint - Warpaint (2013)
Eh bien, j'irai au pied de mon escalier.
Oui, oui, ja ja.
Cherry hemangiomas. Small red dots that are smaller than a pencil eraser, these are caused by an overgrowth of blood vessels in the skin. They are common and can appear anywhere, but they are not linked to skin cancer.

Lentigines. These are flat, tan-to-dark spots that look similar to freckles. They usually range from the size of a pencil eraser to the size of a dime, but they could be bigger or smaller. These are what most people typically think of as age spots or liver spots. They are usually located on sun-exposed areas of the skin.

Seborrheic keratoses. These can be flat or raised and range from pale to dark brown or black. They are often scaly or wart-like, although they are not warts. "They can be due to sunlight, age, and are also genetic," says Dr. Wolf. People who have many of these skin changes have probably seen them before on a first-degree relative. They are also linked to skin tags, another kind of benign skin growth.
Aš nekalbu prancūzų.
I cant translate Russian you noggin.
Muy bien.

"Bien, bien"

Hahaha
I do not speak French.
That is Spanish for "Very well / I'm good thank you".
plenty of fun out there, you just a homebody waiting to get running. the computer's a giggle, the writing's a hack, the television a communication device, the missus better than any booze. yeah, you feel elated, ready to take on the world, but remember life ain't always right for you, and that's the reason you withdrew into reclusion for years in the first place. it ain't so bad, mike. life ain't so bad. don't you go over the top, just learn to be, talk to yourself, talk to your lover, your family when it matters, nothing else means anything. everything in life is a game of luck, how you're feeling at a significant point. sure hard work pays off, but forcing your life to go in any direction is the reason you so stressed. be gentle with your chi mike, your karma got you this far, loads of friends out there, they know they can talk to you. you just schizophrenic. you just schizophrenic bud. and that's the end of it really. that's the end of it. be proud mike, you should be. not for who you might upset along the way, because that's bound to happen. but for the family you keep, the ten years of extra stress you've tried to nullify with your nearest and dearest. that's true love. i see the soul of you. it's just a lie...(soulmate conscience)
Yeah poetry's a bit contrived for getting emotions out, but who cares, it's one of the easiest ways, because we form rhyming couplets naturally in language processing. The other variables – metaphor, simile, onomatopeia, alliteration, free verse, stanza, sonnet, are other builds. These other builds may be referred to as syntax; some poets refer to linguistic based content as lyrics. Seen as a whole, lyric writing is poetry always, but sometimes poetry is not heard in lyric writing. And the breaking down of lyric writing, is through, for me personally, the refusal to stick to a rhyme scheme. If you have no rhyme scheme you have a ruined "Paradise Lost". If you decline the couplet foundation "The Jungle Husband" would have no basis for existing. Even though William Blake, war poet extraordinaire who unfortunately died the day before his success came, was a heavy user of repetition, hence rhyme schemes, those who forget the repeat are destined to forget where they cut their teeth. That, for Muttley, my friends, is the beauty of poetry, and rhyming couplets.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojYsJi0q6ko
Absolut sick musikhoren! Memorisch fantastisch!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xaJxh6D27Ik

Some of the best techstep out there was made in the 1990s
Rider used to cain this one, and with good reason

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0y9RbQYP3s
https://www.mixcloud.com/muttleysubversi...revisited/
beavis & butthead do America - best alternative film to south park: the movie out there since 1999.
I am a sociopath. I have the intentions, but not the intent.
"We make a living out of what we get, but we make a life out of what we give" ~ Winston Churchill.
9717

Effusion is a drug of sorts, but only when it goes our way. Rejection is life not going our way, telling us we're finished at
the same time. Which is better - a drug, or a finish? I would think something erudite comes from imagining any outcome here. The doubts in our mind cloud our situation, our state of being, but a finish is really no better than a drug, and visa versa, it is what it is. Because, sometimes, it's better to feel like we're winning things in life, and sometimes other, it's best to feel content.
I watched 6 "proper" fights yesterday (8.7.17) ...3 thru Sky Sports YouTube hooking me up, 3 via Channel 5 on my parents telly.

Frank Buglioni vs. Ricky Summers (PTs)
Conor Benn - Mike Cole (stoppage)
Andre Buatsi - Cuban (KO)
Josh Taylor - Ohara Davies (stoppage)
Jason Easton - Steve Jamoy (stoppage)
Chantelle Cameron - Libby Ovyesja (stoppage)

Generally all good, but the Conor Benn and Josh Taylor fights were a cut above. Conor Benn has good head movement, very similar to Nigel his dad. Josh Taylor's stoppage was surprising, the fight could have gone either way, and Taylor was stunned in round 5. Not hurt, but stunned.
creature, secular, instant, molecular, jugular, fibula, toe to the tibia, ribbons of, present wrap, we have no handicap, take
heed of booby traps, take this vibe to the max, max, max, don't frown when you're out, scream and scream and shout it out, get
high with the inside vibe of your soul, the devil on your shoulder will crease and fold, the ironing is to be done another day,
oh please don't let your dreams go astray. lose all primitives, take off your contact lenses, create film with the convex trends,
please yourself when you have no friends. lose grip on the winning game, happiness is not about maintaining, it's about sailing
through the storm and not wailing when you hit a white flag. cut the drag, but wear clothes of the opposite sex if it makes you
smile, the ghost's baby is no-one else's child, the woman's woe is the man's biggest foe, and it hurts us, it hurts. we know we
can dream when we're awake, but god please god don't make my mistake, don't mistake your soulmate for a fake, when they could
dig your grave with a stake, paranoia plague, synapse on the stave, treble clef a chef a kitchen, put some white goods in, i'll
need a fridge to store that ice, your beautiful lies of paradise, telling us "we can go the extra mile!" "we do this for each
other, baby can't you see there's no-one else worth my while like you?" only if you knew. marriage is borne on invisible chains,
celebrate the painting they say its by monet, it may as well be scribe ravioli by the phonetic mismatch with equality, perhaps
you should take out a degree on philology, put ink to the paper like a scatter graph colostomy, sheesh that's a bit crude my
dream underwent a lobotomy. by the time we've flushed that out, i'm making drones in my dreams. i've made 25 minutes of solid
ableton hardware drone, and the consonance and dissonance is a place i call home, it's a focused record i think nightshifters
could appreciate, but bassomata's being reviewed next so until next year i'll wait, i have all the time in the world, for fun
to be uncurled, i'm thinking of tapestries of yolk, mixed with flour, it's no joke, after a nap i might occur some pancake power
and take a shower to the uncouth earth with my spider ladyfriends in the corners of the hearse. i'm a night owl genuinely it's a
blessing and a curse, if i live my dreams by staying up with a typewriter and a sequencer, i'll feel fresher in the day to apply
some mental pressure, forge structure out of my spring cleaner ideologue fantasy, the person i want to be, on top of everything,
taking care of a mental gymnasium with no failings just showing different ways of portraying them. complex dreams, simple dreams,
ideas of hope, bursting at the seams, concepts of wit, taking no shit, giving none either, premier air breather no more fever...
25.07.2017

There's been times before mid week
where i've gripped at my bed sheets
and clung to an answer
a lonely whisper
or a fetish abundant
in hygenic water
soapy cleanse
bleached out splendour
and amended morbidity.
Sometimes I think the general public are a sub human species. Sometimes I just think they weren't allowed into heaven. Sometimes I think their whole purpose is to be ghosts. Stealing the show, making us less than we truly are, perverting our vast and glorious sunshine.

Ffuck them.

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