12 November 2004

Cognitive play, annotated by myself ... from a friend with a cold sense of reality

Scene 1:

I'm at MA's House, talking to her Daughter (Who has a friend that says nothing) The daughter was cute, but was busy teaching me about something that was on the TV. I don't remeber what was on the TV, but it was important, it may have been in another language as her friend seemed intoxicated by the TV, but I didn't get it. The Daughter was just rolling around on the floor like an ape just shot with a tranq, you know, kinda uncoordinated but she was still explaining the TV to me. I don't seem to remember what was happening, so it must have not been important.

TV rots your brain and it's virtues are inconcievable to anyone but victims of "the palsy" and brain dead mutes.

Scene 2:

I then went inside and downstairs to ground level (again, don't ask how). MA's husband and Son were watching a television that the son was playing Video games on. The Son was retarded and could only play video games. The husband was eating chicken or something, and just staring at me, then the TV, then me, then the TV. Back and forth for quite a while. So I left.

Obviously retarded people can only play video games, but in a larger sense the lack control in their own lives but are rewarded with ample control in the video game world. Also, chicken makes you ADD.

Scene 3:

I'm riding my pedal powered bike down the road and realized I needed to stop and get more gasoline for it. I pull into the gas station and lay my bike on the ground. I whip out my credit card and try to get some gas. The pump doesn't take my credit card at first because I put it into the wrong slot. So then I put it in the correct reader slot, and select to purchase gasoline. Instead I buy two passes for "Valleys" which was a work out gym like Ballies world of fitness or something. I didn't want this, and was in a hurry because I was late for a wedding. I don't think it was my wedding, but it might have been. I just new I had to be there for some reason.

Now this makes sense, gas for a pedal powered bike is human energy, so a gym is the best way to maintain human energy.

So I go to the old lady in the gas station pump gaurd house thingy, and the lady says, "Hon, you will have to talk to the lady in the main store" and points. I walk over to the main store leaving my bike. No one could steal my bike because it was out of gasoline.

The store lady was Madeline Albright, and she was pissed off. She told me basically that I was screwed because I had bought the wrong thing and would have to do something about it. Evidently she was powerless to help.

In MA's infinite knowledge, she knew you didn't buy the wrong thing she just didn't want to hurt your feelings cause you'd obviously been talking to retards, ADD people and cerebral palsy victims all day.


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