Monday, August 24, 2009

Cranky Large Medium reading, 24 August

Go away.

Why are you here? Why won't you go? What's keeping you here (other than perverse pleasure at seeing a solitary soul suffer an invasion of privacy)? Ah, I see, you came here for something only I can offer you. Would that be a sample of my DNA for future cloning? Because I'd have to refuse, on the grounds that it would probably only make me twice as grumpy. So... oh, it's not the DNA you're after. Then what is it I could possibly have to offer you as if I didn't already know? Yes, yes. You want a reading. Well, this is you, and don't take it too personally. I'm this cheery with all my blissful isolation. Here you are, then:
You are honest, just, generous, affectionate, and far-sighted, but a good pair of spectacles will fix that last item. The rest is just annoying to the general populace. You love music, and have some talent for it, -- mostly in the shower, where we'd prefer you kept it. You are an amusing and interesting talker; a little speech therapy might solve that problem. You are tied to your home and emotionally smother the ones you care about.
Are you happy, now? Of course not. But who cares? Happiness is overrated. Anyway, if you want to look at things a little less negatively, you can consider the fact that you have the ability to suck oxygen. This puts you at a decided advantage over most people, especially these folks, all of whom, on this date in history, ceased to consume oxygen or anything else: Michael V, James Clark McReynolds, Getúlio Vargas, Thomas Digges, Maria Cunitz, Nicolas Léonard Sadi Carnot, Rudolf Clausius, Bernard Castro, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, John Owen, Thomas Alcock, Sampson Sievers, Pliny the Elder, Ewald Christian von Kleist, Girolamo Francesco Maria Mazzola, Nicholas Stone, Paul Henry, Alfred Eisenstaedt, Kenji Mizoguchi, E.G. Marshall, Jane Greer, Buddy O'Connor, Eustace the Monk,
and Louis Prima.

I'm just a little tired of company. Go, now.
Happy birthday, anyway.

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