Some days are better than others. But most are worse than others I find. This is often due to mundane, dog turd day jobs grinding us in to submission. Things often happen, like for instance: a testosteroned up boss yells at you about “blue sky thinking” and spouts marketing guff out of their putrid, coffee fouled mouths. It makes you want to puke on his children’s faces initially, just as a warm up. Then cut a hole in his chest big enough to fit a toaster, then put a toaster of your choice in the slot, plug that bad boy in, pop in a couple of slices of granary, and wait for them crispy buggers to be ejected from his mouth all bloody and warm. Then ask him to try and tell you again about your general tardiness and personal hygiene issues. See how he likes that.
On the other hand, maybe sometimes it’s you that’s the whining neighbour or boss being a complete prick because you didn’t get enough sleep, or you missed your favourite telly program about cars that you like so much, and have a matching mug and t-shirt declaring that fact.
We’re all dicks in this world, and I don’t care what anyone says. That. Is. A. Factule. We’re all big juicy plums ripe for the plucking. We wind each other up day in day out about nothing, just our crappy little, tiny little, nothing much lives. But we care so much for our stupid amoeba sized personal universe that we actually think we are always in the right and the other guy was a moron, and the other guy thinks the exact same thing about us. So what does that mean? We are all morons. All of us. Even Jeremy Kyle.
Why am I banging on about this? Well, I saw this following video, and it is a visual summary of how I feel this evening. It’s slightly different from the approach to watermelon art we see here. This one’s for the raged up among us today:
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