This blog is like a huge mechanical swine that loves to eat. I can feed it anything, even an aborted bible commentary. My mechanical swine affords me a guilt-free way to dispose of awful writings.
Here is the ‘M’ key:
What happened is that I read an online opinion piece about the second chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. As this piece was written by a Christian, it contained many errors that were easy to correct. So I wrote a reply that remedied the au
Yesterday my Automatic Post Maker generated such a large glob of scripture that I had to rive the mass to fit it into this diary. Now here is an illustration that I found in an ancient pamphlet:
Running around with sheepfish is practically all I did when I was a nun.
To my mind, the overuse of anything emphatic is impossible.
It’s not just an anagram but also a palindrome of . . . dang, now I forgot what I was going to say.
All I ask is that you share this diary entry on your network of choice and then use your own money to promote it so that when I become rich & famous I can stiff you. I’ve always wanted to stiff a gentle soul.
Above is a fit that I threw via MS Paint. You may assure Dr. Freud that I genuinely forgot to type the terminal letter in that program’s title when naming its file on my computer: “MS Pain Crapola.”
This marks the first ti
My favorite part about finishing a beverage is preparing its bottle for recycling by rinsing it with water. You pour a little water in, and replace the container’s cap; then you shake it around, to clear away any residue. The feel of this shaking motion pleases me – I always improvise a song in my mind, to compliment the rhythm of my shaking: I imagine myself as a professional maraca player in a bright white suit. On average, my bottle-rinsing music sessions continue for about twenty to thirt
Today I will share two missteps that I posted on the social network to celebrate Mother’s Day. I will clink them into the glass as if they were ice cubes. Then I will fill up the glass with corporate bonuses.
But first . . .
Here is an image that I am happy to relieve my laptop’s hard drive of having to preserve. I cannot remember why I would have saved such a thing, but I can’t deny that I named its file Polkadot Paperwrap.
I stole a rib from St. Mark’s
I was playing a card game with my friend while typing this entry, and, at a certain moment, I realized that it would be good for me to photograph my hand. (By hand I mean the cards that I was holding.)
This is where comas come into port.
I do not want understanding but creative misunderstanding.
Go fetch your evening espresso while I make my morning martini.
I will gladly dance like Eric Wareheim’s Officer De Luca at
I was walking at the park this morning. Up ahead on the path, a couple was walking toward me. As they passed, they greeted me; and I said hello and waved. Then I realized something: When I wave, I make the same gesture that police do when they tell traffic to stop.
These aren’t true, are they?—I think they’re from one of those fake news sites.
Some people rescue injured animals; I rescue my own stupid Facebook comments.
About rap, I’m opinionated to the point of obnoxio
When the head chef asked me to choose a noodle style for our daily special, she accidentally said ‘posse’ instead of ‘pasta’; so, after commending Eloise for her improvement of the English language, I said “My choice is spaghetti, because they eat spaghetti during a scene in the film Out 1.” By saying this, I was referencing a movie directed by Jacques Rivette which I recently watched. But my favorite is still Céline and Julie Go Boating.
I welcome myself to Day 4 of my Facebook vacuum bag. I notice that many words have been sucked up here; nearly all of which are from my side of an online argument that I had with an espionage agent.
Here is a close-up of the badge from my bubble wrap lab coat:
Just because priests have used their interpretations of certain books to control others doesn’t lessen my respect for those scriptures. If someone were to use Shakespeare or William Bl
What follows is Day 3 of my Facebook tripe roundup. The reason I generated so much tripe is that, after changing my account’s name from Tertius to Bryan, I was curious if it would feel any different to use the network under this new identity. Here are my findings: My computer’s keyboard now makes a finer clicking sound when I type.Other users’ responses to my postings are noticeably deeper and far more eloquent.
(The actual reason I generated so much tripe is that careless people ofte
This entry constitutes Day 2 of my Facebook hogwash roundup. Basically I wrote a bunch of comments over there, and now I’m copying them here for safekeeping; because, if I leave them on The Facebook, they’ll breed worms and stink like the food that our LORD feeds his people (Exodus 16:20).
Above is a detail that I took from a furniture ad. It is a room shown sideways. Before I turned the picture on its side, it was not art; but, once I rotated it, it became art
(Please note that this entry should more accurately be titled "Day 1 of FB comment roundup.")
I routinely copy my Facebook activity on this blog because it allows me the freedom to delete my Facebook account without suffering loss. I love the feeling of being able to pull the plug on the social network at any time: this helps me have patience with the place – it’s like braving Holy Communion with the knowledge that your purse contains a sacramental cyanide wafer.
Fighting the evils of sense and logic has left me zero minutes to pet my blog. This is a grave sin – therefore, dear Lord, I beseech you to birth yourself and then slay yourself so that I can be forgiven. Nobody should neglect a blog like I’ve neglected this blog.
What to expect from the rest of the present entry:
I’ll share a sweet list of roughly sixteen statements (taken from my Twittering Machine) only after I post a candid self-shot that shall reveal the gritty truth of my
I have been busy putting the final touches on what will be my very last book and therefore have not had the pleasure of typing trash here lately or spending quality time with my sluggish computer on any of the social networks besides the one that is shaped like a bluebird; but I miss the online prison and am trying my best to figure out a way to get thrown back in, so below I will share two crimes: an image that is mostly text, and a text that is mostly hot air.
I consider today’s journal entry to be a cheat post, because it consists of nothing but a roundup of my Twittering Machine’s recent droppings, the number of which equals a baker’s dozen minus two, which is to say: an accountant’s dozen.
First things first. Before sharing my SWEETWEETS with you, I must properly dispose of the following image, which was saved on my computer as a file named colorful spark winter joys stars circles.
SWEETWEETS Its love f
Species live and die just like the individuals that comprise them. Some people say that the fate of humankind is tied to the habitability of the Earth, or the lifespan of the Sun; therefore, to avoid expiring, humans must colonize other planets. Extinction is of course always a possibility; but, if humankind’s lineage is found to be thriving in futurity (even after the cataclysm of your choice has passed), over the interval, our descendants will have undergone such a change that they will bea
Before I share two proven facts here on this blog, I need to give myself an important reminder:
NOTE TO SELF: Don’t forget to purchase your latest book. It’s not the twin volumes whose covers went viral yesterweek (those titles, to date, have not yet managed to escape the publisher’s matrix) – no, it’s the last of the many absurdities that I composed over the past Seven Years of Social Famine.
However, if you look closely at the back cover of the second half of my two-part col
Before I unveil my thoughts, which were inspired by a blurb that I found on the back of a jug of hand sanitizer, I will share not one but two obligatory images.
Here is a picture of an actual compact disc:
And here is a close-up shot of the above disc’s hole:
One romantic thought:
Let’s say that you secretly admire a person. In so-called real life, if that person is standing behind you, you can never know whether or not she is eyeing you. You might think or even f
I posted nothing on this blog today or yesterday because all of my time got stolen by the devil Necessity; but I happened to draw nonsensical scribbles on the front of a letter while I was waiting for my pregnancy results (I’m just joking – I have no idea how babies are made), so I thought that it would be good to photograph this event and let it go viral. I hope to talk to myself here more very soon. TershyRad
Today I was thinking about careers. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a mad scientist – like the kind that appears in old movies or in cartoons: one who’s so obsessed with his inventions that he never leaves his secret makeshift underground laboratory, which is filled with beakers of multicolored liquids that continuously billow smoke even when lukewarm. This morning I awoke with the realization that I’ve achieved that goal. For I wear safety goggles on the regular and never co
Before I prove that God is bisexual, I must share this torn photo that I found on the opposite side of the advert image that I shared a few days ago – my interpretation is that it looks like legs and shoes:
Scientific proof that the God of the Bible is a bisexual androgynous hermaphrodite
Genesis 1:27 reports that God created humankind “in his own image . . . male and female”; thus, God is at least double-sexed. And, being God’s clone, the first human was equall
Before I begin the present entry, which I titled We move through space in a certain way (please note that I capitalized only the initial character, to comply with what I assume is French tradition), I must share the following image, which says: “NIZE PulCs”:
I wish I were so attractive that anyone, after meeting me, would search for my name on the Internet and find my blog and my books and my ostrich and read all my words. I would like to get a telephone call in the even
In this entry, I will share the purposely juvenile covers that I made by hand last Thursday for my collection of self-amusements.
These two volumes contain ALL of the books, writings, texts, and semi-sensical anti-fun that I have ever composed – even the claptrap that I posted on Friendster & Twat. The only thing that they do not include is my Holy Scripture: I kept that text separate because it constitutes the personal religion that I created; which deserves to be revered, not lu