Go Darke

Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it

Fundamental Joeyism

Green juice equivalency

I’m back. Eh… from outer space. Sorta. Having just achieved the digital equivalent of a green-juice enema. Or whatever the current Goop detox methodology is in vogue at the moment. I must say, my bowels are feeling loose and well lubricated… and ready for the sphincter puckering experience that is the internet. Once more into the breach.  (that may… or may not be a pun.. lets leave it open ended)


Sometimes the internet just feels like the root of all woe. Probably because it likely is. And woe needs to be treated like the gangrenous appendage it is!! He says, poking at his screen with his newly hewn stump. (but masterfully tapered so as to easily accept a prosthetic… like maybe a Bear Claw… eh.. not the Danish. he added, after considerable thought…)

God I love pastry.

And bread.

Having now been thoroughly sidetracked with ambrosia-otic imaginings… I can’t remember exactly where I was going with all of this. But… if we just take the modus operandi of essentially every post I’ve ever written its likely safe to assume it wasn’t going anywhere profound anyway. In fact it probably teetered down an alley before passing out… not even having the courtesy to crawl into a cardboard box first. God, why could you have not given me wisdom and understanding and the ability to express that knowledge in written narrative *sigh*…  instead of this huge penis?


Do you ever get the feeling the internet is making you miserable? I’ve become dimly aware that there may be some sort of psychological attrition thing going on every time I open my browser… so I brutally disconnected myself for a couple of days. And… in all honesty, I did feel better for a while.

Eventually FOMO got the better of me and I mainlined r/libertarian for an hour. Which is basically the self-harming equivalent of burning yourself. With an oxyacetylene torch. On your scrotum.

In any event, I’m fully ‘cogged’ back into the machine. There is no redress for somaeone like me anymore. There is only through. Hopefully you missed me. (I don’t even mind so much if you lie to me). I missed you. And that’s all that really matters.