Ray's Rainfall Update - The Flipflopper Party
The cosmic yet localized good versus evil spat goes on and on. Yet most of US are flipfloppers. How stupid is that? Consider the humble flipflop, a foot gear that protects only the sole of the foot, maybe. Those making little progress in fire ant plus sticker bur country wear flipflops. Plus, flipflops may have a sissy connotation.
Why are they spelled flip flops? They don't flip flop. They slap up and down on the heel.
Ha! Some relative semi-genius at some Mammonite think tank thought up the notion of flip flopper in the political context. Yeah dude. Everybody hates sissy flipfloppers. Or maybe not. Seems like there are more and more accused flipfloppers these days.
So perhaps US needs a new political party, the Flipflop Party. The Flipflop Party might easily incorporate the platforms of both the extant political parties. The Flipflop Party could flipflop on every issue, except those nearest and dearest to US; the freedom of potential access to storage, protection of the right to store freely and protection of the stored stuff.
Er. I may have to reflect some more on the potential of the Flipflop Party, anon.
Anyway, last night, via the magical process of precipitation, 0.81" entered the trusty gauge. The new, all important total is, 41.87" + 0.81" = 42.68". Praise the Goddess!
Now it is raining again. The rain is how come I am spelling as opposed to werkin' in the sun. Like those historical yet imaginary rednecks cited by George Wallace formerly, I would be werkin' in the sun, except for the rain.
Tomorrow is delicious cinnamon bun day. Mmmmm-boy!
OK. I have reflected barely some more on the Flipflop Party potential. But what I can't figure out is, how to attract anyone with any principles beyond cache preservation. Jeez Louise! I don't want to found a new political party just like the other two.
Blah! Blah! Blah! I am winding down from all the excitement of werkin' in the sun. There I was, werkin' in the sun when the tuber plus edible root giants started rolling those great and semi-great food items down into the cellar. Then, a while later, I got fairly soaked by the rain. So to make up for all that and restore balance to a highly localized universe, I got a treat. The treat is, a pint of Wells Bombardier English Premium Ale, alcohol 5.2% by volume.
The English are historically horrible people, occupying that imperial niche between Rome and US, but they do make good ale. (I have heard that the English hunted the indigenous Australians for sport, for example). Yep. It's a good ale, but not as good as Fuller's Extra Special Bitter. I am fixing to guzzle up a pint of ESB, next.
All righty then. All this is certainly fairly innocuous spelling. After all, Shakespeare may have been English. At least he spelled in English, sort of. So that may excuse the dreadful English from their Australian shenanigans. But maybe not. Course not, actually. Plus, they introduced rabbits to Australia. How stupid is that?
Ahhhh! The ESB may be better. But not by much. How could people who make such good ale, be such imperialists? I shall have to consider that issue as part of my Sun God training. Or maybe not. Perhaps the English shall all be drowned anon, and trouble the globe, no more. Oh well.
On the homefront, in these parts, interestingly, apparently, Dell the computer assembler company, accounting division plus Mammonite bosses, has been cooking the books for the last four years. I sure hope no one I know and like was in any way disadvantaged by all that.
All righty then. This is Ray Pistrum, Sun God Trainee, signing off.
Watch out for the Wicker Man!!!!
Why are they spelled flip flops? They don't flip flop. They slap up and down on the heel.
Ha! Some relative semi-genius at some Mammonite think tank thought up the notion of flip flopper in the political context. Yeah dude. Everybody hates sissy flipfloppers. Or maybe not. Seems like there are more and more accused flipfloppers these days.
So perhaps US needs a new political party, the Flipflop Party. The Flipflop Party might easily incorporate the platforms of both the extant political parties. The Flipflop Party could flipflop on every issue, except those nearest and dearest to US; the freedom of potential access to storage, protection of the right to store freely and protection of the stored stuff.
Er. I may have to reflect some more on the potential of the Flipflop Party, anon.
Anyway, last night, via the magical process of precipitation, 0.81" entered the trusty gauge. The new, all important total is, 41.87" + 0.81" = 42.68". Praise the Goddess!
Now it is raining again. The rain is how come I am spelling as opposed to werkin' in the sun. Like those historical yet imaginary rednecks cited by George Wallace formerly, I would be werkin' in the sun, except for the rain.
Tomorrow is delicious cinnamon bun day. Mmmmm-boy!
OK. I have reflected barely some more on the Flipflop Party potential. But what I can't figure out is, how to attract anyone with any principles beyond cache preservation. Jeez Louise! I don't want to found a new political party just like the other two.
Blah! Blah! Blah! I am winding down from all the excitement of werkin' in the sun. There I was, werkin' in the sun when the tuber plus edible root giants started rolling those great and semi-great food items down into the cellar. Then, a while later, I got fairly soaked by the rain. So to make up for all that and restore balance to a highly localized universe, I got a treat. The treat is, a pint of Wells Bombardier English Premium Ale, alcohol 5.2% by volume.
The English are historically horrible people, occupying that imperial niche between Rome and US, but they do make good ale. (I have heard that the English hunted the indigenous Australians for sport, for example). Yep. It's a good ale, but not as good as Fuller's Extra Special Bitter. I am fixing to guzzle up a pint of ESB, next.
All righty then. All this is certainly fairly innocuous spelling. After all, Shakespeare may have been English. At least he spelled in English, sort of. So that may excuse the dreadful English from their Australian shenanigans. But maybe not. Course not, actually. Plus, they introduced rabbits to Australia. How stupid is that?
Ahhhh! The ESB may be better. But not by much. How could people who make such good ale, be such imperialists? I shall have to consider that issue as part of my Sun God training. Or maybe not. Perhaps the English shall all be drowned anon, and trouble the globe, no more. Oh well.
On the homefront, in these parts, interestingly, apparently, Dell the computer assembler company, accounting division plus Mammonite bosses, has been cooking the books for the last four years. I sure hope no one I know and like was in any way disadvantaged by all that.
All righty then. This is Ray Pistrum, Sun God Trainee, signing off.
Watch out for the Wicker Man!!!!
posted by ray pistrum at Friday, August 17, 2007
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