Thursday, December 22, 2005

I never metaphor I couldn't milk

Here's a little piece I stole from Kevin Marks who stole it from Susan Cheevers.

It's late at night, and you are in your homecube cruising auction sites for furniture on the Internet. You know you shouldn't be doing this because according to the law we must avert our eyes from other people's furniture unless we have bought a licence. You want to go to sleep, but you can't because those same laws prevented you from ever getting a bed and you don't know what one looks like. Then you see something out of the corner of your eye. What the hell is it? It's some weird woman with white paint on her face pursing her lips and holding her finger in front of them. She's wearing a stripey shirt. Oh my god. It must be a mime artist; I heard about those when I was a kid. What's she doing now? She sits on the floor, lies on her side, puts her hands under her head and closes her eyes. Is that what you do in a bed? Can I get arrested for watching this?

WTF?? She's got the same breasts as me. How can that be? And look, she's rubbing her nose just like Grandad used to when he told lies. That can't be right?! She can't be entitled to that - it genetically belongs to me. By law. That's outrageous! What a shame that the copyright for the electric chair was bought by that freakshow Amnesty bunch of weirdos.

I raise my hands to my breasts in alarm. Thank God. They're still there. Well at least I'm not disfigured. I paid a fortune for those.

Thx to Bright Tal for the photo

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