Sunday, August 02, 2009

Cranky Large Medium reading, 2 August

Go away.

Why aren't you gone? Is finding the gate so difficult for you? Does your mommy know you're out alone? Run along home, now. Go on. Skedaddle. Scoot. Vamoose. Go. Leave. And.... you're still here. Why is that? Oh, of course, you forgot how to walk. No? Then what in the name of the giant cephalopod is keeping you here? Oh, of course, you want something from me. And that something is... predictably... yes, yes, a reading. Oh, no, I didn't expect that at all. So, if I give you your reading, you will leave, correct? Then let me do a little dance, here, and get you on your way. Here you are:
You can probably do a job, if you set your mind to it. After all, nature gave you opposable thumbs. Plus, you have minute business talent. You are mostly a bubblehead, giggling your way through life, always looking for ways to keep company with people you view as cult-cha'd and refoined. You can carry on a conversation, if prompted. I'm not going to do so.
Are you happy, now? Of course not. Too bad. But at least you can stand there and complain, if you want. That puts you well ahead of these people, all of whom, on this date in history, cashed in their last chips: Ælfweard of Wessex, Kato Kiyomasa, Robert Campbell of Glenlyon, Warren G. Harding, Jacques-Étienne Montgolfier, Lazare Carnot, Alexander Graham Bell, Pope John V, Harvey Spencer Lewis, Helen Hoyt, Raymond Carver, Norman Mclean, William S. Burroughs, Thomas Gainsborough, Oswald von Wolkenstein, Enrico Caruso, Brian Cole, James Jamerson, Ron Townson, Jean-Pierre Melville, Fritz Lang, Don Estelle, Mae Costello, Kay Dotrice, Alfred Lépine, W. Douglas Hawkes, Thurman Munson, Horace Mann, James Butler "Wild Bill" Hickok, Ormer Locklear, Paul von Hindenburg, Louis Blériot,
and Shari Lewis.

Tap your feet on out of here, now.
Happy birthday, anyway.

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