Noetic

Here is my new blog –> www.RogueOne.net

Honestly, what coward from back in the day thought of parley? I thought people back in the time of kings were like hardcore rippin’ legs off and beatin’ people in head them types. But no it’s, “Wait, I request that I get to speak with your king and you must honor this because it is law.”

This is the very reason I want to be a Highway Bandit. I don’t have to follow stupid laws of things like “Parley” and “Public Intoxication/Nudity”. I make money with no drawbacks (except running from the coppers) and I can do whatever the hell I want. If they don’t like it I’ll stab them with one of these.

Which is also very useful if you’re Grazing. For those that don’t know, Grazing is when you’re in the grocery store and you see people near the grapes deciding which bag they want by eating a couple of them or when no ones around they’ll take drinks of stuff in the coolers. Well, I used to be okay with that. No more.

This morning I stumbled upon the yogurt drinks in my fridge which from time to time I consume with a fruity glee usually kept in a dark closet all by itself, but not today. Lighter than usual bottle, cap didn’t require force to come off, but none of these clicked until I realized what “Don’t Drink and Drive” really means. I practically projectile vomited all over the steering wheel and crashed into the flying Monkey Gods pursuing my newly purchased car battery after tasting this decrepit already-half-gone-rotgut of a yogurt drink.

In any case, I’m chasing down grazers in local grocery stores and anally pentrating them with pinapples while making pterodactyl noises, that’ll show them to mess with my mornings! They probably say shit like “parley” too. Fuckers.

“What did you got?”, you say. I say, “Speak real Fucking English damn you!” and then I say, “Oh, sorry about that. I’ve got the solution to everything.”

I don’t think I know it all, but my world tends to be very small at times. Right now, everything means just the things that are bothering me right now. And there’s a lot.

Think about this though, how many times do you answer “I don’t know” to a question? And when you do, how many of those times you say it only to get out of answering the question? Try this next time instead of saying I don’t know to get out of answering, answer with the most insane response possible. But here’s the key, stick with it as long as possible.

Someone asked me why the battery in my truck was dead yesterday, to this very moment all they know is that apparently, there’s a group of Monkey Gods from Nova Scotia roaming North Georgia sucking the power out of car batteries to sustain themselves, and I was their first victim.

Yeah he’s pissed, but “I don’t know” just got too boring for me. Oh, and Splenda is what Satan uses to salt wounds in Hell. Yeah, that’s right. Splenda. Scary isn’t it?