Today I celebrated Precedent's Day. I know what you're thinking, that's unprecidented, right? Sure. Thjings at the HeAP offices get a bit out of control sometimes, but even we have to join the ranks of the partying masses every so often to balance our hectic workloads and blossoming baking prowess. By the way, these buns won't be burning anytime soon.
First thing we did was set up a buld your own cake station in the break room. If you've ever seen a break room picture that. Mundane blue walls covered with motivatuonal posters. teamwork. chivalry. Floss. A table slightly too high off the ground surrounded by chairs just a bit too low. A water cooler in the back corner that gurgles more than an obese man's belly outside a chinese buffet at happy hour.
The cake station consisted of three choices of basic cake foundation, white, spice and chocolate. Each staff member was asked to bring an icing from home. Two people called in, one person brought two items, another mistakenly brought a can of cheese and the worst offense of all, a person had the nerve to bring a prefabricated cake. Anyway, icing choices included spicy nacho, chocolate, german chocolate, spanish chocolate, vanillna, dutch-oven vanilla, yellow, butter cream and chili. Once the staff member iced his or her cake adequatly the time for cake condiments arrived. Pen15 brought a 15 pound bag of sprinkles, but not just any bag. Oh no. He went all out. You remember those popcorn tins with dividers separating each of the various flavors? Imagine that in a large bag of hardened tie-dyed sugar and you get the idea. It was requested we have a sprinkling in the rain party but it did not pass a democratic vote when I vetoed it on the grounds of it being absurd for two reasons; first that it could be construed as copyright infringement based on how lame the pun actually was and two, our janotior was one of the folks who called in.
Other cake condiments and toppers available included marshmallow goo, strawberries, cheese spread, taco seasoning and candles.
Then we voted to revoke computer privlkedges for the remainder of the party so....
Monday, February 16, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Vallient-tine's Day
Think about how important Valentine's Day is for Americans. The massive amounts of blind spending on cheesy gifts such as inedible chocolate, poorly arranged flowers and lest we forget all of those dreadful singing teddy bears. But love is an industry and industry brings jobs. If you don't celebrate Valentine's day you aren't buying anything for a sweetheart. That means you aren't creating jobs. You miserable jerk. Why can't you do your part for the economy and buy a teddy bear, maybe even a stuffed animal if you're allergic to bears. No one is asking you to buy a ten pound bag of those chalky candy hearts. Everyone knows those things were made years ago and have yet to sell. ever wonder why after all these years they still say things like, "You're cute," or "Be mine," rather than a more modern turn of phrase such as, "Wanna freak," or "It's your baby," maybe "In the butt," perhaps the best of all, "3-way." Considering you have not and will not see those you can rest assured if you chomp on a candy heart you chomp on on the chalky deposits of the 80's.
Going back to you being a miserable jerk I think you're forgetting the precise goings on of February. Girls and guys alike clamour to find suitable plans for the day of love and romance. People make a big freaking deal out of it Jonny. So all you gotta do is stand around listening for some girls that ain't got dates an you swoops in and play it smooth, see? You don't even gotta be handsome Jon, I'm tellin' ya, broads love to not be lonely in February. Somethin about the coming of the Spring or something. They get batty when they see their shadows, know what i mean?
Women truly are the fairer sex. Sure i just equated a needy batch of whining to the weather forecasting skills of a large rodent but consider this: without that whining you would never stop to think about how crowded the dog house will be if you forget to at least pick up a rose or one of those hokey children's valentine cards. Women care about the country and the economy. When the economy is strong so is the dollar and that mean more shopping, and we all know that most women feel more at home at a mall or shopping center than at home. When they go to malls they buy things and they look hot so guys buy things to try to make themselves look hot to attract the elusive female prey. This cycle keeps the country running, it maintains our status of "Capitalist under developed country punching juggernaut from the West." If you want to give up that name plate at the U.N. meetings then go on right ahead. Complain until your face turns blue and children pants you in the middle of whatever Wal-Mart parking lot you happen to be protesting in that day.
Maybe it will cheer you up to consider just how accurate you are in shouting how silly the whole affair really is, but we have to be subtle. Look, it keeps the economy going. We aren't going to do anything to disrupt that. We need all the help we can get, but we are allowed to highlight certain areas of interest.
The heart symbol, for example. It looks nothing like a human heart. A side by side comparison yields little to no evidence that the drawing is even based on the actual body part. Inside a human heart you will find chambers. Plus blood. Like gridlocked rush hour traffic kind of blood. Although widely considered an internal organ the heart actually beats and as such is much more closely related to the sounds of a drum or other percussion instrument. The symbolic heart sounds nothing like a symbol as it has never produced a single sound. It is a compulsive wallflower. Its contents range from well wishes to chocolates and in extreme circumstances body parts. However neither blood nor beatings are ever found in these hearts. No chambers valves or ventricles either. The only argument necessary for one to realize how silly the whole thing is comes from the film, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. In the film, a wild priest, who in the right light bears strong resemblance to Hollywood hate-monger and maniac extraordinaire Mel Gibson, removes the beating heart of a strange looking man without the benefit of modern technology or training traditionally required for that type of invasive procedure. (Don't get me wrong, the guy is good, but he probably didn't go to night school and medical correspondence courses simply weren't available when the film was made.) In real life a strange man would not pluck the beating heart from your comrade or significant other. Instead, he would probably kick you in the shin, face, funny bone, belt buckle or other uncomfortable pressure point, steal your hopeless and or romantic gift just before you reached the checkout lane and then retreat to his evil lair laughing all the way much the way a demonic Darth Vader obsessed gingerbread man might.
Candy hearts are stupid.
Going back to you being a miserable jerk I think you're forgetting the precise goings on of February. Girls and guys alike clamour to find suitable plans for the day of love and romance. People make a big freaking deal out of it Jonny. So all you gotta do is stand around listening for some girls that ain't got dates an you swoops in and play it smooth, see? You don't even gotta be handsome Jon, I'm tellin' ya, broads love to not be lonely in February. Somethin about the coming of the Spring or something. They get batty when they see their shadows, know what i mean?
Women truly are the fairer sex. Sure i just equated a needy batch of whining to the weather forecasting skills of a large rodent but consider this: without that whining you would never stop to think about how crowded the dog house will be if you forget to at least pick up a rose or one of those hokey children's valentine cards. Women care about the country and the economy. When the economy is strong so is the dollar and that mean more shopping, and we all know that most women feel more at home at a mall or shopping center than at home. When they go to malls they buy things and they look hot so guys buy things to try to make themselves look hot to attract the elusive female prey. This cycle keeps the country running, it maintains our status of "Capitalist under developed country punching juggernaut from the West." If you want to give up that name plate at the U.N. meetings then go on right ahead. Complain until your face turns blue and children pants you in the middle of whatever Wal-Mart parking lot you happen to be protesting in that day.
Maybe it will cheer you up to consider just how accurate you are in shouting how silly the whole affair really is, but we have to be subtle. Look, it keeps the economy going. We aren't going to do anything to disrupt that. We need all the help we can get, but we are allowed to highlight certain areas of interest.
The heart symbol, for example. It looks nothing like a human heart. A side by side comparison yields little to no evidence that the drawing is even based on the actual body part. Inside a human heart you will find chambers. Plus blood. Like gridlocked rush hour traffic kind of blood. Although widely considered an internal organ the heart actually beats and as such is much more closely related to the sounds of a drum or other percussion instrument. The symbolic heart sounds nothing like a symbol as it has never produced a single sound. It is a compulsive wallflower. Its contents range from well wishes to chocolates and in extreme circumstances body parts. However neither blood nor beatings are ever found in these hearts. No chambers valves or ventricles either. The only argument necessary for one to realize how silly the whole thing is comes from the film, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. In the film, a wild priest, who in the right light bears strong resemblance to Hollywood hate-monger and maniac extraordinaire Mel Gibson, removes the beating heart of a strange looking man without the benefit of modern technology or training traditionally required for that type of invasive procedure. (Don't get me wrong, the guy is good, but he probably didn't go to night school and medical correspondence courses simply weren't available when the film was made.) In real life a strange man would not pluck the beating heart from your comrade or significant other. Instead, he would probably kick you in the shin, face, funny bone, belt buckle or other uncomfortable pressure point, steal your hopeless and or romantic gift just before you reached the checkout lane and then retreat to his evil lair laughing all the way much the way a demonic Darth Vader obsessed gingerbread man might.
Candy hearts are stupid.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
In case you didn't plan for 2009
Well, the world didn't explode on New Year's Eve so you're stuck living another year. What now?
First things first; you have to decide whether you want to world to explode or if you are willing to compromise, perhaps enter couples counseling with the planet. Not a cheap option but solutions to massive problems often come at equally enormous costs and or consequences. The rest is easy.
So if you really want the world to go boom you ought to look deep inside yourself to discern the root of this potential terrorist temper tantrum.
- Does your job have you howling at the moon? Try a career change. Look for something to fit your strengths. If you have a nice butt you should investigate a career as a professional athlete on account of all the tush touching those folks accomplish. If you enjoy sitting around without the verbs associated with doing so called stuff you might be suited for a journey into the far reaches of space as an astronaut or a life of politics. Both jobs require you to take up space and deal with thinking inside a vacuum. However, under no circumstances should you look to a life of crime to solve your issues. If you want the world to explode you obviously have difficulties with authority. Crime typically puts you in the cross hairs of many folks wielding that same authority that you probably loathe day in and day out. Sure that bank heist will get your picture on TV and chicks dig ski masks when you say please but if you meet a nice girl you aren't going to be able to go out to eat and then she will get bored and you'll want to break up with her or cut one of her arms off and practice her nagging technique while starring into the mirror and listening to some swanky Shakira remix boldly shouting in Spanish about the empowerment of the ovaries or something. Don't be that guy. That's just weird.
Speaking of relationships, perhaps it is your lack of love life getting your buns more burnt than burning with passion. I suggest you try cross dressing. Don't think of it as odd or even as a fetish. instead look at it as an opportunity to be the hero cop on the undercover assignment of a lifetime. You will get to enter the lion's den and escape unscathed all for the price of a little black dress and a pair of pumps from an Amazon woman's shoe store. think of the secrets you could uncover. The friendships. The hours spent understanding the jokes on Lifetime. True if your buddies catch you suicide will probably be your first thought but that's no good either. Instead, turn the tables, use your acquired cross dressing skills to hit on and embarrass your inconsiderate and unruly friends. On the other hand you may find cross dressing to be an enjoyable activity. One that will become a hobby. If you want to world to explode you need a hobby.
Perhaps you're too fat. You want the world to collapse, not from the gravity of your weight but because of the weight on your chest, the emotions you keep inside due to the unending stares you receive at the eyes of judgemental twigs and teenagers acting tough for girls they will only ruin for nicer guys. You should skip all the dieting and workout plans. Try this: punch people in the face early and egregiously. If done correctly people will become intimidated and eventually fear you. Your influence will grow until many people are scared of you, perhaps willing to do your bidding. At that time your weight will no longer be an issue, and if someone wishes to make it such you can have them tickled until he or she urinates in his or her trousers and then you can mock them until they kill themselves out of shame or they are forced to call home and ask their parents to retrieve a fresh pair of pants. Of course if you don't punch correctly you will often find yourself running from stronger and tougher people. In this case the running will no doubt make you lose some of the weight. If you simply cannot run, it may be that hiding is your best bet. If this occurs don't fret, the CIA and other government agencies are always on the lookout for stealthy individuals to perform acts of secret daring-do around the globe and sometimes right down the street. Fat people can be super spies too. They just don't get as much hot intercourse and martini action as James Bond.
if you are just an angry person may we suggest you find a more creative means of expressing your rage? Wanting to blow up the world is a rather vague hostility. Specificity can help to eliminate ambiguity and allow for better circulation as well as increased relaxation. Example: "I want to blow up Mars." WRONG. "I want to eliminate the birdhouse in my backyard because the chirping gives me headaches and then the voices get so loud I can't listen to my Yanni records." Correct. Another alternative is to harm plants rather than people or animals. They are easier to replenish when compared to people or small pets and best of all no one asks suspicious questions which can lead to visits from law enforcement officers. Pulling the leaves off of a plant after a hard day is acceptable, pulling the arms off of a child is not. Plants don't need to carry lunch pails to school or write sentences 100 times when they misbehave. Another incentive is the baffled looks that police profilers will be left with when they find your dismembered plant collection after you snap. Whole chapters in books will be dedicated to your new and eccentric behavior. You can be famous without ever having to deal with the Earth suddenly bursting into flames and jumping into the sun to put itself out.
So consider your options, and remember, it's only February so it can get a lot worse. But until it does, try some of these suggestions.
First things first; you have to decide whether you want to world to explode or if you are willing to compromise, perhaps enter couples counseling with the planet. Not a cheap option but solutions to massive problems often come at equally enormous costs and or consequences. The rest is easy.
So if you really want the world to go boom you ought to look deep inside yourself to discern the root of this potential terrorist temper tantrum.
- Does your job have you howling at the moon? Try a career change. Look for something to fit your strengths. If you have a nice butt you should investigate a career as a professional athlete on account of all the tush touching those folks accomplish. If you enjoy sitting around without the verbs associated with doing so called stuff you might be suited for a journey into the far reaches of space as an astronaut or a life of politics. Both jobs require you to take up space and deal with thinking inside a vacuum. However, under no circumstances should you look to a life of crime to solve your issues. If you want the world to explode you obviously have difficulties with authority. Crime typically puts you in the cross hairs of many folks wielding that same authority that you probably loathe day in and day out. Sure that bank heist will get your picture on TV and chicks dig ski masks when you say please but if you meet a nice girl you aren't going to be able to go out to eat and then she will get bored and you'll want to break up with her or cut one of her arms off and practice her nagging technique while starring into the mirror and listening to some swanky Shakira remix boldly shouting in Spanish about the empowerment of the ovaries or something. Don't be that guy. That's just weird.
Speaking of relationships, perhaps it is your lack of love life getting your buns more burnt than burning with passion. I suggest you try cross dressing. Don't think of it as odd or even as a fetish. instead look at it as an opportunity to be the hero cop on the undercover assignment of a lifetime. You will get to enter the lion's den and escape unscathed all for the price of a little black dress and a pair of pumps from an Amazon woman's shoe store. think of the secrets you could uncover. The friendships. The hours spent understanding the jokes on Lifetime. True if your buddies catch you suicide will probably be your first thought but that's no good either. Instead, turn the tables, use your acquired cross dressing skills to hit on and embarrass your inconsiderate and unruly friends. On the other hand you may find cross dressing to be an enjoyable activity. One that will become a hobby. If you want to world to explode you need a hobby.
Perhaps you're too fat. You want the world to collapse, not from the gravity of your weight but because of the weight on your chest, the emotions you keep inside due to the unending stares you receive at the eyes of judgemental twigs and teenagers acting tough for girls they will only ruin for nicer guys. You should skip all the dieting and workout plans. Try this: punch people in the face early and egregiously. If done correctly people will become intimidated and eventually fear you. Your influence will grow until many people are scared of you, perhaps willing to do your bidding. At that time your weight will no longer be an issue, and if someone wishes to make it such you can have them tickled until he or she urinates in his or her trousers and then you can mock them until they kill themselves out of shame or they are forced to call home and ask their parents to retrieve a fresh pair of pants. Of course if you don't punch correctly you will often find yourself running from stronger and tougher people. In this case the running will no doubt make you lose some of the weight. If you simply cannot run, it may be that hiding is your best bet. If this occurs don't fret, the CIA and other government agencies are always on the lookout for stealthy individuals to perform acts of secret daring-do around the globe and sometimes right down the street. Fat people can be super spies too. They just don't get as much hot intercourse and martini action as James Bond.
if you are just an angry person may we suggest you find a more creative means of expressing your rage? Wanting to blow up the world is a rather vague hostility. Specificity can help to eliminate ambiguity and allow for better circulation as well as increased relaxation. Example: "I want to blow up Mars." WRONG. "I want to eliminate the birdhouse in my backyard because the chirping gives me headaches and then the voices get so loud I can't listen to my Yanni records." Correct. Another alternative is to harm plants rather than people or animals. They are easier to replenish when compared to people or small pets and best of all no one asks suspicious questions which can lead to visits from law enforcement officers. Pulling the leaves off of a plant after a hard day is acceptable, pulling the arms off of a child is not. Plants don't need to carry lunch pails to school or write sentences 100 times when they misbehave. Another incentive is the baffled looks that police profilers will be left with when they find your dismembered plant collection after you snap. Whole chapters in books will be dedicated to your new and eccentric behavior. You can be famous without ever having to deal with the Earth suddenly bursting into flames and jumping into the sun to put itself out.
So consider your options, and remember, it's only February so it can get a lot worse. But until it does, try some of these suggestions.
Monday, February 2, 2009
The Bear: Fact or Fiction?
"The bear went over the mountain." No one questions this. Bears are notorious for going over mountains as well as through streams. Seldom do we see bears caught in the glitz and glamour of Hollywood or basking in the repeating flashbulbs of the paparazzi.
Next we are told that the reason the bear went over this mountain is "to see what he could see." Again, no problems here. Any number of animals and people alike have found themselves traveling aimlessly both through the world as well as the world-wide-web for no good reason; simply to see what there is to be seen. Bears do not have the Internet because they cannot afford it because they cannot get jobs. I know you're thinking, but what about bears in zoos? Those bears work for room and board. Nothing more. At the all zoo Christmas party they drink for free. That is the life of a zoo bear. And Smokey is a fictional character created by conservationists to scare children away from forest fires toward the temptation of arson in the city. So bears don't have the Internet and therefore must travel the world, typically over mountains, for no better reason than to see what there is to see.
The real trouble starts when we are informed of the Bear's findings; "The other side of the mountain was all that he could see." I smell conspiracy.
First of all, not a single bear or person has ever confirmed the other side of the mountain. Perhaps it was the other side of the mountain being viewed, but that leads me to question, just what was on this other side?
Could it have been a mysterious series of glyphs left by an alien race? Instructions for any who could decipher the script. A recipe for disaster or greatness? We may never know because the government doesn't want us to know. Suppose this mountain in question happens to be in the state of New Mexico...near a place by the name of Roswell. Maybe you've heard of it? The bear could have seen the crash site of what some believe to be an extraterrestrial craft. Witness3es to that sort of event end up disappearing or being discredited. So I ask you, when did you last see the bear who went over the mountain? Hmmm.
Geography is the variable of greatest importance in this puzzle. If the mountain from the song is farther south then other "fables" are possible. For instance, the Fountain of Youth, the lost City of Gold, the body of Jimmy Hoffa. As exciting as any of these discoveries would be do you really think the people in power would allow a bear to accept credit for such a discovery. Not after the hours and years that people have poured into unearthing such secrets.
Secrets such as the Sasquatch or Yeti cannot be ruled out either if for no other reason than the unconfirmed existence of such species. Yetis, also known as abominable snowmen, are rumored to live in the mountains of Southern Asia. Those snowmen may be abominable but if discovered think of the trouble: constant traffic from tourism and media, the talk show circuit, rumors and rampages, celebrity dating fiascos, and dare I say grill endorsements?
On the other hand, the Sasquatch is perhaps the Paris Hilton of the fabled beast circuit. Always popping up for inappropriate photographs. If this is an accurate depiction of the animals true nature then it would also be possible that the other side of the mountain held romance for the bear. Upon discovering a lonely Sasquatch the bear fell in love and ran off with the ape-ish creature. To cover up her husband's disappearance the wife of the mountain crossing bear told friends and family that he saw the other side of the mountain. Three days later an unidentified bear body was found in a nearby stream. The case was ruled a suicide by most, but is it really a cover-up?
Perhaps that is the real story; a disappointed wife. No one has ever failed so hard as the bear who went over the mountain. He found nothing. Learned nothing. He is a fool. Others, the Big Bad Wolf, for example, despite being caught, managed to destroy two houses and send two pigs into years of therapy while single handedly creating no less than three hundred jobs for contractors annually. Jack jumped over a candlestick not to mention all of the beanstalk business. His farming techniques have proven top be nothing short of miraculous. A simple demonstration of physics or not, the elephant Dumbo could fly. Lest we forget the Lazarus-shaming amount and quality of resurrections at the hands of Daffy Duck. Not even Curtis "Fifty Cent" Jackson could receive so many gunshots to the face and live to rhyme about it. In comparison, the other side of the mountain is about as impressive as...as... come to think of it, not a single thing in the world is as unimpressive as discovering the other side of the mountain. This of course only makes the case against the Bear's wife stronger.
Who knows what really happened after the bear went over the mountain. The HeAP believes that someone knows something, and until these unbearable facts are brought into the light, this enigma will remain wrapped inside the conundrum of a mystery.
Next we are told that the reason the bear went over this mountain is "to see what he could see." Again, no problems here. Any number of animals and people alike have found themselves traveling aimlessly both through the world as well as the world-wide-web for no good reason; simply to see what there is to be seen. Bears do not have the Internet because they cannot afford it because they cannot get jobs. I know you're thinking, but what about bears in zoos? Those bears work for room and board. Nothing more. At the all zoo Christmas party they drink for free. That is the life of a zoo bear. And Smokey is a fictional character created by conservationists to scare children away from forest fires toward the temptation of arson in the city. So bears don't have the Internet and therefore must travel the world, typically over mountains, for no better reason than to see what there is to see.
The real trouble starts when we are informed of the Bear's findings; "The other side of the mountain was all that he could see." I smell conspiracy.
First of all, not a single bear or person has ever confirmed the other side of the mountain. Perhaps it was the other side of the mountain being viewed, but that leads me to question, just what was on this other side?
Could it have been a mysterious series of glyphs left by an alien race? Instructions for any who could decipher the script. A recipe for disaster or greatness? We may never know because the government doesn't want us to know. Suppose this mountain in question happens to be in the state of New Mexico...near a place by the name of Roswell. Maybe you've heard of it? The bear could have seen the crash site of what some believe to be an extraterrestrial craft. Witness3es to that sort of event end up disappearing or being discredited. So I ask you, when did you last see the bear who went over the mountain? Hmmm.
Geography is the variable of greatest importance in this puzzle. If the mountain from the song is farther south then other "fables" are possible. For instance, the Fountain of Youth, the lost City of Gold, the body of Jimmy Hoffa. As exciting as any of these discoveries would be do you really think the people in power would allow a bear to accept credit for such a discovery. Not after the hours and years that people have poured into unearthing such secrets.
Secrets such as the Sasquatch or Yeti cannot be ruled out either if for no other reason than the unconfirmed existence of such species. Yetis, also known as abominable snowmen, are rumored to live in the mountains of Southern Asia. Those snowmen may be abominable but if discovered think of the trouble: constant traffic from tourism and media, the talk show circuit, rumors and rampages, celebrity dating fiascos, and dare I say grill endorsements?
On the other hand, the Sasquatch is perhaps the Paris Hilton of the fabled beast circuit. Always popping up for inappropriate photographs. If this is an accurate depiction of the animals true nature then it would also be possible that the other side of the mountain held romance for the bear. Upon discovering a lonely Sasquatch the bear fell in love and ran off with the ape-ish creature. To cover up her husband's disappearance the wife of the mountain crossing bear told friends and family that he saw the other side of the mountain. Three days later an unidentified bear body was found in a nearby stream. The case was ruled a suicide by most, but is it really a cover-up?
Perhaps that is the real story; a disappointed wife. No one has ever failed so hard as the bear who went over the mountain. He found nothing. Learned nothing. He is a fool. Others, the Big Bad Wolf, for example, despite being caught, managed to destroy two houses and send two pigs into years of therapy while single handedly creating no less than three hundred jobs for contractors annually. Jack jumped over a candlestick not to mention all of the beanstalk business. His farming techniques have proven top be nothing short of miraculous. A simple demonstration of physics or not, the elephant Dumbo could fly. Lest we forget the Lazarus-shaming amount and quality of resurrections at the hands of Daffy Duck. Not even Curtis "Fifty Cent" Jackson could receive so many gunshots to the face and live to rhyme about it. In comparison, the other side of the mountain is about as impressive as...as... come to think of it, not a single thing in the world is as unimpressive as discovering the other side of the mountain. This of course only makes the case against the Bear's wife stronger.
Who knows what really happened after the bear went over the mountain. The HeAP believes that someone knows something, and until these unbearable facts are brought into the light, this enigma will remain wrapped inside the conundrum of a mystery.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Initiation
This is the Compost HeAP. And you are about to delightfully inflict damage upon your brain so severe as to warrant any number of the following symptoms: bad breath, hunger pains, laughter, nausea, owning multiple copies of Frampton Comes Alive...the list would continue but due to the economy inspired budget cuts at our offices...you get the idea.
Yes. The HeAP is back and in all new blog format. No more notebook paper passed around. No more poorly written prattlings printed from a processor of words in the attic. No more salmon colored paper. No more contests and give-aways. You will get stuff in your face. Consider it word pie and not like those foamy cream pies you see so often splattered into unsuspecting participants of shenanigans. Nope. This is a dirty cream pie, you're probably going to find a hair in it and it may be your own, it may not belong to a person. Chances are it will be a metaphor since that is what i am currently force-feeding you, but if I may, it is done not only out of love but also due to the inconvenient truth that there is no spoon.
Neo-bolshivism?
Check.
Solipsism?
Check.
The kitchen sink?
Yes. The HeAP is back and in all new blog format. No more notebook paper passed around. No more poorly written prattlings printed from a processor of words in the attic. No more salmon colored paper. No more contests and give-aways. You will get stuff in your face. Consider it word pie and not like those foamy cream pies you see so often splattered into unsuspecting participants of shenanigans. Nope. This is a dirty cream pie, you're probably going to find a hair in it and it may be your own, it may not belong to a person. Chances are it will be a metaphor since that is what i am currently force-feeding you, but if I may, it is done not only out of love but also due to the inconvenient truth that there is no spoon.
Neo-bolshivism?
Check.
Solipsism?
Check.
The kitchen sink?
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