Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Ilaine who wrote (18385)	3/5/1999 12:10:00 AM
From: Gauguin	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 71178

I like the bad angel. The wise one. (Why is that usually the truth?) As a matter of fact, he's dead on. ("What else are you going to do sitting on a pillow?") He's funnier, too. Part of the reason I'm away from my desk, is that two pillows aren't enough anymore. "I don't need wheelchair access. I need three-pillow access." That and some duct tape could make for an interesting little documentary. Say at the airport, the last place I had trouble. I guess I would have to be the pillowee, since I can't stand up long enough to do the camming. Unless I sat down with pillows too. I wonder if I could do that. Just be the pillowee star. Where's my beer. "I'll DO IT!" Maybe I can sue the Oregon DOT for just putting wheelchairs on their blue signs. "Governor, those pillow people are hardass." I could design a new graphic. "Bubblebutts." o o o There's be a ribbon cutting; and well, bubbly. And some caps: "We're not handicapped." Attractive (but intelligent) women would rub their stomachs on my head. But not sit on my lap. Something bothering me is that I want the market to be nice to me. I don't like this idea that companies that make lots of money throughout their history with superior products and fumble-fingers competition, sink to all-time lows when I buy them. I am feeling singled out. I think I'm feeling that I in particular am as singled out as a person can get. But the market and people getting money are running somewhere, someway else else elsie. But I don't know how to learn to be what appears to me insane, and would be afraid to, for fear that it would be a step backwards, even though the evidence is perennially against it. I am thinking to give up. But then what will I do? So, I'm spending more and more time curling on my bed. Beds are our friends. Flat and soft and never mean. A bed has never been mean to me. Well, except a waterbed, which isn't really a bed. It's a bad. It's not a drinking man's friend. No no noh noh nooooohoooooo ooohh ohhhhhh ohhhhh ~ see? Then you have to get up. That defeats the Whole Purpose of a bed. As the final loves-me resort. That's like being spit back by god. They're collapsible. You can collapse. Lapse. Co-lapse. Pull a blankie over your eyes and disappear. It's my favorite furniture. That and the water heater. There's a spendy two-line phone by my bed, but I've disconnected it. It's still there, disconnected. It makes me feel good whenever I look at it. It's right by the bed. I don't answer it, because I can't; even if it could ring. I strangled it; I unplugged the wire at the wall end. So it still looks like it works, and it does, but it doesn't. It looks like I'm responsible and ready to go, but I'm not. Every time I walk in there and see it right by the bed, I think, "Oh god. What if that thing rings. I hate that." It's very black and nasty and NORAD looking. It gets me every time still ~ But then I remember through the disguise. "Oh. Hee hee ~ you just look like a phone. Cool. Oh so good. Very sleepy; carry onnnnnnnnn." Boop. "Make room for Daddy, kitty cats." The bed collapse, the bed roll, is very important. It's the most important moment of my life. Well, with going to sleep itself; but that moment is hard to pin down. The bed roll is frankly the ultimate in satisfaction. Hell with all your expensive rolling stock, this roll is better than orgasm. Without the work. And usually someone has to get up after that, which, again, defeats the Whole Purpose of Bed. It's beauty in simplicity. It's downhill. Works with the forces of nature. All you have to do is get near the edge. Same forces will also hold you in there, securely, without even a seatbelt. What could be more perfect about this apparatus? I won't talk about alarm clocks, the synthesis and summation of all that is evil. Oh I've succumbed to evangelical battle with their forces, but I think the results would be better posted over at the Ask God thread. Since my laptop died, in the Luddite world my machines live in, I have no way to "work" from bed this time. What will I do in there? I'll go find out. I've been getting sore anyway. I do that sometimes. Ow.