Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Cranky Large Medium reading, 5 August

Go away.

Why are you still here? Do you have some point to your existence, as well as your purpose for being precisely on that spot, a direct affront to my happy solitude? Oh, well, that's not so important as the question... when will you be gone? The sooner the better. So, go on, now. Why are you here? Oh, right. You want something from me. And, if I give it to you, you will blow this pop stand, right? Tubular, dude! Here's what you came for: Pbbbbbthbthbth. What? You didn't come for a Bronx cheer? What did you want? Aww, stinkbugs! You just want one of those darned readings? Well, you're no fun at all. Sigh. Here you are, then:
You are quick to judge, are fairly capable, and a fop. You have an artistic temperament, without the requisite talent. As monkeys go, you're clever, amusing and popular. If you fancy you're not such a primate, I can 't help you. You are incapable of demonstrating affection.
Are you happy, now? Of course not. But you could find yourself looking on the bright side of things, if you stop swinging from the rafters. You're at least capable of doing something outrageous like that. It puts you well ahead of these people, all of whom, on this date in history, were sent to hang out in the cellar: Gruffydd ap Llywelyn, Emperor Kogon, Frederick North, Lord North, Victoria, Princess Royal, Jacques Boucher de Crèvecœur de Perthes, Sameera Moussa, Heinrich Otto Wieland, Isaac Luria, Stanislaus Hosius, Archbishop George Abbot, Friedrich Engels, Edgar Guest, Juan García de Zéspedes, Luther Perkins, Reg Lindsay, Richard Burton, Sir Alec Guinness, Josh Ryan Evans, Norma Jeane Baker aka Marilyn Monroe, Judy Canova, Bob Caruthers, Art Ross, Jesse Haines, Paul Brown, Susan Butcher, Chick Hearn,
and Carmen Miranda.

Now, you can head down any way.
Happy birthday, anyway.

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