Well, belatedly I add this thinkling ...

Some time ago, I was shown the cover of the new Christina Aguilera album.

I believe we can now expect Madonna to join in, with her body replaced by a large mechanical vagina perched delicately between two orbulent titanium tatas ...

Meanwhile, Mungolian Jet Set are running amok, writing pop songs and strange and esoteric trip-music, covering a fairly diverse set of contents from Alien disco abductions to murderous undead transvestites. I am beginning to despair, ashamed that the heritage of which I was a progenitor has descended to such lowly levels.

Do you find my thinklings offensive?

Clearly some people do.

I like to tap out these words like a dwarf tapping his little pickaxe in a cave to loosen diamonds, filling each one with all my love for humanity, sheltering under its umbrella of happiness while fucking plastic objects while looking at pictures of someone else fucking plastic objects.

All your lovely little political policies and efforts to keep as many of your kind alive as possible, while behind that you attempt to be the one who has enough food to feed yourself and barter for a fuck.

All this in time to the rhythm of music that you probably have a stronger opinion about than the fact that someone out there has enough money to pay off the Greek national debt without making a noticeable hole in his bank account.

And celebrity is the panacea, curing murderers and paedophiles, ranting bigots and dictators of ...
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As a mark of desperation for your approval, I add this:



Now you have no excuses.

Not one.

#heavyhandedirony

Fidel has had some interesting notions lately, what with cyborg women and all.

I noticed on his mobile phone that he had a picture (clearly doctored) of Sarah Palin in a T-Shirt with the slogan "Will fuck for food" in big black letters on it.

I was going to ask him about it, but didn't bother. Instead, I decided to join Twitter and see what the fuss was about.

What a waste of a day. Even Sir Dhahii's relentless demands that I play Halo3 seem slightly more appealing now. All those pointless little snippets of thoughts, or attempts at jokes (to me it seems that Twitter is about out-smartassing everyone else, more than anything else), chronicles of quotidian and insignificant rituals, or - worst of all - little bits of "wisdom" that some deluded fuckwit thinks will better humanity's lot (which run along the lines of "Anger is understanding in a raincoat of ...
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I haven't said anything about Cheryl Cole for a while ...

Fidel, former lifelong friend of the Late Pierre doesn't like her either, it seems.

He suggested that she should be smeared with yeast extract and thrown into a pit of starving chihuahuas.

I concur.