Dear bloggers,
As a friend of Trent Lewin’s, I regret to inform you that this blogger has ceased to exist. He had a reasonable run. He wrote things that were far too long. He didn’t know what a conclusion was, and generally frustrated most people. Most especially, he was not patient or particularly good, so it was inevitable that he would come to an end in this way – too cowardly to tell you all himself, and indisposed in any case. Consigned to the scrap heap of aspirations and dreams. They tell you that if you but try, your dreams will come true. Trent Lewin believed this, but it is just an illusion. A lie. He was a simple person, coarse but well-intentioned, unable to believe that somewhere, someone wouldn’t understand what he meant when he turned his mind to meaning anything at all. The beginnings of dreams are wonderful; the ends just forgotten. He tried hard not to turn this place into a diary of his life, a place to wallow in self-pity, to express his frustrations and concerns, even though he certainly had those. No, he kept writing nonsense, and I kept reading it – not all of it, just skimming. Some of you read as well, the bits and pieces that he turned out on infrequent occasions. So hold up a glass and celebrate this wretched fool, another anonymous failure that’s gone no where and now has ceased even trying. Try to be better than him. Try to last longer. There might be a chance for you – but there is no longer a chance for Trent Lewin.
All the best,
John O. Kinder Evers (acquaintance of Trent Lewin, but not friend. Never that)
P.S. At least this was short.
Trent Lewin 
Is this like the picture Tom Brady posted a few days ago? Are you coming or going? Cause if you’re going, then WordPress and the blogging community has got nothing left for me.
You’re too good to me, Mark. I appreciate that. It’s nice to feel appreciated in some way, don’t you think? Thank you.
Oh no! You’re joining me in the ether?
Why are you in the ether, Elyse, and how can we rescue you???
Just haven’t felt like writing 🤷♀️
It would make me really glad to see something from you.
Aren’t you sweet. I think I will be feeling more creative once Trump is gone. Oh and I have a new job (after 2 years of being off) and that is keeping me incredibly busy.
Congratulations on the new job! As for Trump, when you guys boot him out later this year, let’s celebrate. People like that never actually win.
Glasses raised. Not sure what I’m toasting… That’s business as usual though. I never have much of a clue about what’s going on.
If you’re calling it quits, then I will miss your words.
Crike man, I’m at the point where I won’t miss my own words… Just kidding. I’ll keep spewing. It’s kind of what I do.
Quitter.
I oughta know.
The only stupid dreams are the ones you give up on.
And, trust me, I am constantly on the lookout for the gray cloud behind every silver lining.
But still.
I refuse to like this.
You’re a good dude, JC. I think there’s another famous dude with your initials that was generally thought of as a good dude and an inspirational figure for the entire world. Jackie Chan.
Aw, shucks….me and Jackie?! In the same sentence?!
I mean….you could still post like, dick-pics or something.
Most of my stories are actually dick-pics. People just never seem to get it. I’m so damn confusing!
Oh, I get it. Please note that I said, “…you could still post…dick pics…”
Cat videos?
I can’t stoop that low. This Kinder Evers fellow, who is actually a friend but kind of a jerk, might be open to it though.
Glad to hear it. There’s a monitor in my room in hell that endlessly plays cat videos…
InspirationalExpirational quotes?When purchasing toilet paper, never go for the product on the bottom shelf.
NOW you tell me this!?
Well, I can’t help but think that this advice will come in handy for you going forward…
Ah, feck.
Now I had to open it again.
Look, toilet paper ain’t gonna buy itself.
You are only as good as the last ten words you spoke before going to bed.
“I think I forgot to flush the toilette. Oh, well.”
Honestly, I’ve heard worse.
Even Gandhi farted, so don’t worry about it.
“What–Me worry?”
That’s what he said?
True love is finding someone who will scratch your back even when you haven’t showered in five weeks.
But only if you will then clean their nails.
That’s a step too far!
The roots of a tree are just as vast and important as the canopy, but none of it is really edible.
Unless you’re a termite.
It’s entirely possible that we are all termites. Ever considered that?
The perfect man is a hairy woman.
What about the perfect woman being a hairless man?
I should know.
Wait, wait – are you hairless? Tell us all your secrets.
Okay. The truth.
I have like maybe a dozen.
It’s kinda hard to tell.
They tend to fall out after a while.
I think I have about six right now.
(true story. alopecia universalis.)
Oh wow. Interesting and I feel like I need to know more.
I mostly miss my eyelashes. They keep shit from getting in your eyes.
And (believe it or not) nose hairs. They keep snot from running out of your nose at inopportune moments.
And my goatee. I had a fine goatee. Quite nice, actually.
Sir, you’re like a story I badly want to write.
Holy crow, man. I don’t know what to say!
When your socks go missing and you can’t make pairs anymore, it’s a clear sign that you need to buy more socks.
OH, just wear un-paired socks! All the kids are doing it.
The future is made of unpaired socks and dingy dirigibles.
And apparently leopard print. Leopard print is back. Fuck.
How can leopard print be back when it was never accepted as being here in the first place? You know, fuck those leopards. They’ve really mucked things up for the rest of us.
If a bird lands on your head, you should naturally expect shit on your nose.
Or down the back of your neck. Pretty sure that’s worse.
Death to birds!
The shortest line between points A and B is the recognition that there’s more to the alphabet than two letters.
But only if you use a really tiny font.
Do you know what font the Romans used?
You haven’t really lived a great life if you have to write your own autobiography.
What about if you write your own biography?
I think writing your own biography is okay, as long as you’re consistently drunk.
About thirty percent of the sand on a beach has been in someone’s butt crack, so be careful where you put your face.
So, somewhat similar to ass-pennies?
Oh. My. Gosh.
Jesus walked on water, Muhammad came down from the mountain, and Buddha found enlightenment, but no one likes cold genitals.
Speak for yourself.
Are you saying my genitals are cold? How did you know?
I’m saying that I happen to like mine slightly chilled…..it lowers the sperm count.
I hope you know that by chilling your nethers, you’re doing incalculable death to millions of innocent sack-swimmers.
When shopping for used cars, never consider a bicycle unless it, too, has four wheels.
But, Trent….wouldn’t that be a quadricycle?
I would still manage to fall of the thing.
Never worry about hurting the feelings of the chicken you’re about to roast in the oven.
Oh, never. In fact, I usually brow-beat it relentlessly.
The chicken probably had it coming.
They always do.
I like turkeys.
The heaviest thing you will ever lift is still very light compared to the weight of a mountain.
Tell that to Atlas.
Atlas is a wimp.
An abundance of caution is roughly equal to being spanked by a helium balloon.
But only if the balloon has hands….and some sort of musculature….and volition…and the desire to spank.
That is one kinky balloon.
Spank for yourself.
There are two kinds of people in the world: those who put peanuts in their mixed nuts, and those who have puked in a taxi.
I never eat peanuts in my mixed nuts.
Unless my genitals are cold.
Ever noticed that every time you’re in a taxi, the average temperature of your genitals drops a couple of degrees? Just wondering.
Comes from all the vomit soaked into the seat. Vomit actually has a cooling effect on fabrics…..
I have left many an emittance of mouth-hurl upon the fabric of taxi seats, so by your logic, I’m doing my part to help fight global warming, right?
When visiting an island, always plan your escape back to the mainland.
Nah. I always plan on staying.
Under every island, there lies a petunia; and every petunia grows in the soil.
Sometimes they grow in poop.
I read it on the internet.
Well, petunias are a gross kind of flower. They go for that poop lifestyle. It’s definitely kinky and kind of gross, and while I’m not going to judge them, I’m also not getting very close for sniff.
Every time you get a fever, a Norse god picks their nose.
And digs out a Loki.
I always wondered what that was called…
When cannibals boil pacifists in a cauldron, it’s wise to double the required quantity of cilantro.
“Why does this pacifist taste like soap?”
“It’s just your genes, Barunoma Igo.”
And in two lines, you’ve expanded the vast history of cannibal nation.
If you get to the point in life where you need to take up golf, just imagine yourself in the big hat that you’re inevitably going to end up wearing, before you go too far.
Friends don’t let friends play golf.
Swinging a club at a stationary ball seems very unsportsmanlike indeed. The ball has no chance, really.
Funny that they call them clubs. I mean, could you ever really imagine properly beating anything with one?
I mean aside from a little white ball…
I suspect that swinging a club – aka golf – was invented by cave people, as they tried to incapacitate an animal so that they could eat them, or as they tried to incapacitate a fellow cave person, also so that they could eat them. Just think about that next time you hit the links, folks.
Always keep a bag of marbles in your pants, because you can bring joy to the person frisking you.
Cold marbles.
Very cold marbles.
Helps to keep the genital nicely chilled.
Cold packs also do nicely.
Celibacy in the clergy is like a jigsaw puzzle without any pieces.
I once dated a girl who’s mother dated a Brazilian priest.
Oh wait. They weren’t “dating”. They just shared cigars while watching movies.
That sounds like a highly religious experience.
Nah. It was just kinda creepy.
If you need to write a poem that doesn’t rhyme, always have a photo of a donkey on your keyboard.
Have you been looking over my shoulder?!
No, but the donkey has…
If it snowed on the moon, would that mean that Jupiter could piss on Io?
Only if you can make an ammonia snow man.
Another name for an ammonia snow man is a perverted upright slushy.
The filthiest thing in the world is still far cleaner than the filthiest thing in your mind.
You HAVE been looking over my shoulder!
Our looking at my browser history.
Dammit. I could’ve sworn I clicked, “Browse Privately”
Honestly, not much shocks me, but you my son… wow.
*blush*
If a spaceman comes travelling, make sure he’s not a lonely, twisted twat that was evicted from his home.
Pfft. Aren’t they all?
Yeah, seriously. Extraterrestrials suck.
Free-loading bums.
Go back to your own planets, you damn dirty ET’s. Earth’s full. Mostly of wankers, but full nevertheless.
Tattoos are just graffiti on your inner thigh.
Ok. Now that’s just creepy. You really HAVE been spying on me.
Next time don’t get such a big tattoo.
Look. If you’re gonna do Van Gogh’s Starry Night, do it right.
I don’t recall seeing a flagellated three-headed cow in Starry Night… of course, I am no connoisseur of art.
Real magic is changing a tire without getting black shit on your hands.
It’s not magic, Trent.
They’re called gloves.
This comment is overly sensible. I’m not sure I like it.
If you ever see a politician with a firecracker in their mouth, make sure you didn’t leave anything on the stove.
HIs name is Donald. And that’s a gas-can on the stove. And we don’t like to think so but we put it there.
Let’s all agree to pass the beer nuts. And the gas.
Never take the lord’s name in vain, because germs are people too.
God Germmit!
Blasphemy! I like it.
It’s my favorite kind of Blas.
If zombies take over the world, all your worries are over.
Unless you’re one of the zombies. Then your troubles will have just begun….
How much trouble can you have when you have no brain? Oh wait…
A significant proportion of cheese is made up of stuff that came out of a cow, which in turn consumed grass, so what is it that you think you are really eating?
Some of my favorite cheeses smell like ass.
I’m not sure that’s cheese…
Oh, it is. It’s called Taleggio.
It’s like Brie on steroids.
Imagine Brie that’s been working out at the gym, sweating a ton and then allowed itself to go all fatty.
It’s like that.
Only fucking delicious.
And Italian.
VERY Italian.
And it smells like cow poop.
It’s seven thirty in the morning here, and this made me feel extremely hungry for ass-scented cheese. Is that okay? I’m not really sure.
This is a judgement-free comment thread.
The highest love occurs on an airplane.
That’s what Steve Winwood was talking about?
Ah the 80’s, when every song was about sex but we just didn’t know it.
If you’re serious about your art, get out of the bathroom.
A friend of mine does his best songwriting in the bathtub.
But then….he’s usually tripping on acid when he does it…..
I do my best cleaning in the shower. Coincidence? I think not.
Never underestimate your ability to invent something great, because someone once figured out that rotting, fermented grapes are delicious in liquid form.
And cheese. Cheese is actually just milk in a controlled state of spoilage.
And amazingly, cheese and fermented grapes are a match made in heaven. We should rot all our food.
agreed.
100%
We just maybe shouldn’t eat all of it that way.
If you don’t know the difference between Plato and Socrates, you also likely don’t know the difference between an ocean and a sea.
“Zere iz no DeeFerAhnce!”
What the..
The cradle of civilization is also the birthplace of masturbation.
Nah. My dog told me.
Masturbation is MUCH older than civilization.
I refuse to argue with an authority on the matter, but I must say that I’ve seen the area of your inner thigh, and well, you know… yah. Uh huh.
Now Trent, what dose my thigh have to do with….oh….I thought you said, “arena”….
I’ve never met anyone so well-endowed down there that they consider the space to be an arena. Intriguing. And weird.
The first song was not composed on a piano, so what was the last song you wrote?
Mary Had a Little Infection
I composed it on my ukulele.
Is that what you call modern art?
Isn’t that what everyone calls modern art?
Best definition of it I’ve heard so far.
Just because you need to write a book doesn’t mean that you no longer need to wear a diaper.
I do not need to write a book.
Lately, I may or may not have need a diaper once or twice.
Got any brand preferences you want to share? You know, just in case the rest of us need a recommendation?
Nah. Like I said….may or may not….
If I need to wear a diaper, I’m going for child-sized. I will not be caught dead buying an adult diaper. You gotta draw the line somewhere.
The only surefire way of being sent to hell is cooking a steak beyond medium rare.
Or overcooking fish.
The fish have it coming! Stupid slippery water food…
Yeah. maybe. I hear they all have worms now….
I hate worms! That does it, fish are next on my hit list. Dumb slithery water-dwellers, pooping all over the place without any consideration for who might be swimming down there.
If a tree falls in the forest, and the milkman comes on Mondays, you need to exercise more.
But only if the milkman is listening to Olivia Newton John’s “Let’s Get Physical” via headphones on a cassette tape Walkman.
And wham, images of that video spring to mind… excuse me for a moment.
Soo…..you must be close to or over 50…..huh?
Nope not yet dude. By ONJ, a personal favourite. Suddenly, I feel like I need to work out… if you know what I mean.
A lack of disposable income is like a leaky faucet, and neither is worth complaining about unless you’re thirsty and broke.
Tell that to the wealthy plumber.
That guy needs a pipe wrench to the head.
Egomaniacs and narcissists cannot be melted at any temperature under three hundred degrees Fahrenheit.
But they can be burned at 451 degrees Farenheit. Along with all of their disestablishmentarian propaganda.
You get the wood, I’ll get the kindling.
The legalization of drugs is the admission that nature is kind of fun.
And also that junkies and crackheads are nature’s way of saying, “Oops!”
They’re still better than the politicians.
Oh hell yes
If mushrooms can be magic, why can’t dogs vote?
Who says they can’t?
How do you think we ended up with El Cheeto?
Yes, I understand a good part of his base is the dog vote. That makes sense actually.
Yes. That and ex-part-time-National-Guard-Reservists. With domineering wives.
Dogs and wimps. I see. That’s DJT’s base, is it? You’d think the Democrats would be able to figure that out and attract a few of them over with dog treats and cheap beer… oh snap. Now I’m just being mean. But that President down there sucks balls.
You know. The repressed projectionist set.
Is that a cult?
The cult of El Cheeto
I won’t join that one!
Undersea mountains are taller than mountains on land, but who likes getting wet when you can starve yourself of oxygen instead?
The dead bodies prove it.
I mean seriously, snow sucks.
Yeah, well, pretty soon there won’t be any, so we have that going for us….
It’s possible that snow has it coming. I mean, what has it ever done for us? Snowmen? Snowballs? Avalanches? Frostbite? The list goes on.
The first farmer probably didn’t use animal manure as a fertilizer.
Of course not. Neanderthals were allergic to animals.
I long for the day when we can be neanderthals again. Shouldn’t be long now.
And hopefully we’ll all grow webs between our fingers and toes….I mean, more extensive ones….we’ll be needing them.
I agree. We’ll be amphibious creatures fertilizing our food with our own gel-ly waterous poop. Now that’s what I call evolution.
If every politician were gathered together and put on an island in the Pacific without food or water, what is the difference between fava beans and chick peas?
Tactical nukes.
Well, really just one well-placed tactical nuke.
I think quick and painless would be too kind…
Tactical fava beans?
The bigger and more explosive, the better.
Never build a snowman with either a penis or ears.
Of course not. Build it with lips and…..ummm lips.
And ammonia? A big lippy ammonia snowman? Now we’re cooking.
And your hands. I’m pretty sure it’s easiest to build snowmen with your hands….
Says you!
When going for a haircut, there’s no rule against being drunk, unless you’re the barber.
Says who? Have you seen some of these hipster hair-styles?!?
I resent your comment making fun of my hipster comrades. Soon, we will rise up and take over, and then you shall all share our haircuts.
Always said I’d be the first one up against the wall.
In pretty much any revolution.
Pretty sure I’m gonna piss some wrong person off somewhere along the way before the New World Order
Well, I think you just did piss off the hipster community. They are now going to show you a plethora of shaggy beards and expensive yet tastefully-worn sweaters. You’ve really started something here, you know.
The intelligence of a person does not increase with age – all you do is gain more experience, and get much hairier.
And also much more…..ummmm….shit….I forgot….
Yah, me too. Me too.
Every generation that has ever lived has decried the fecklessness, laziness and entitlement of the generation that followed.
And every generation that has ever lived has decried the closed minded, pompous arrogance of the generation that preceded.
We apparently live in little generational loops, all equally stupid and presumptuous. Who says that nature doesn’t like symmetry?
Here ereH.
Oooooooooohhhh….
The best dessert ever made has been created by making apple sauce and baking it into the shape of an apple.
Add a little puff pastry in the shape of an apple and you’re onto something.
Did you just call me a little puff?
There could be a segment of the population that is actually lizard people, and there could be a segment of the population that are androids, but there is no such thing as a lizard android.
“I came here to kick ass and chew bubble gum, and I’m all out of bubble gum.”
Look, that language might work against aliens and Hulk Hogan, but it would never work on an alien Hulk Hogan.
I KNEW you would know that one…. 😉
Oh yeah… the good old days, when wresters were action heroes. Bring em back!
If cavemen had lived in Manhattan, they would have invented martinis first.
Hmmm…..do you mean they would have invented them before they invented other things….or that they would have invented them before anybody else did…..?
I think you would need martinis first in order to generate the intellectual zing to invent anything else.
Well, certainly to do any kind of inventing with any kind of style….or pinache….or…..
If nature abhors a vacuum, why is everything so dirty all the time?
Because nature adores a speculum–er–petrie dish–er–microscope slide–er–….(something…..)
Also, why did nature invent flatulence? Who thought that would be a good idea or serve any purpose?
“Better out than in.” is a long-standing rule of the universe.
I’m actually quite certain that it my have been the initial impetus for the so-called “Big Bang”.
Ah I see, so from an astrophysical standpoint, you believe that the reason for the Big Bang in the first place was pent-up gas, and that initial expansion was simply cosmic flatulence? And here people theorize that it was God or some event paralleling a universe’s collapse in another spot of the multiverse… I like your explanation better. Much better.
If you aren’t brave enough to squeeze avocados in the grocery store to test their ripeness, you don’t deserve to eat guacamole.
Agreed
I think I love you.
But, wait. Who the hell is afraid to squeeze an avocado? You actually know these people?
They’re all vacuum-toting hipsters with frigid genitals, but yes.
Oh, that’s rich. Not too rich, but rich, yes…..soooo rich…..
If you really genuinely want to change your career and try something new, stop watching porn.
You HAVE been spying on my browser history!
I needed something to do. Now I need something else to do.
You should check out my other browser…..
There is no rule, law or decree anywhere or at any point in history that says you absolutely have to wear underwear.
Mmmm. I bet the Puritans had one.
Well that’s how come they all went extinct. They had it coming.
And don’t the Mormons have like, sacred panties or something?
I’ve seen those panties. There’s nothing sacred about them.
Well they’re very white…..
Wait, are you comparing whiteness with holiness?
Teach kids how to lick envelopes, because one day the internet is likely to betray us and try to end humanity.
And everyone needs to learn the lesson of paper cuts on the tongue.
I wish you hadn’t said that. Brings back some pretty shit memories. Who says progress is bad???
Luddites. That’s who.
Which would I guess basically be that life is pain.
Now you’re bringing me down… I’ve decided to share the wisdom in this post with the world. I don’t think it’s right to deny the world such insight and perspective, when it could do such good for so many. I’m a humanitarian that way. Also drunk. A drunk humanitarian. I think that about sums it up.
Ah, so you’re on a roll.
Dig.
when the fumes of the alcohol need to speak, I feel that my body is a decent vessel through which to communicate their endless wisdom.
Never buy a new phone while you are on the phone.
But what if I am specifically buying a phone that will be used only for looking at porn?
Then I can buy it while on my other, non-porn phone, right?
Cuz I might’ve already done that.
You are full of useful information, most of which I’ve already forgotten. Cue the porn.
Bow-chicka-bow-tsh-tsh-tsh-ooooowwww……
Are you looking over my shoulder now???
The only email you send that will ever get any real action is the email you send that you know you shouldn’t.
Which is also why I left Facebook.
Drunk-posting = Drunk-emailing.
Pretty much.
Never regret drunk communication. It’s much more interesting than real-life and you can , for the most part, declare incompetence if anyone calls you to task.
Oh, I don’t regret any of it. I’m just gonna try and not do it quite so much anymore.
And I just recently discovered that drunk-reserving stuff from the library is like the greatest thing EVER.
It’s like Christmas. I have NO idea what I got myself or why I got it or why I even thought I’d be interested in it but….there it is…just waiting for me to pick it up and find out.
This sounds like a fun activity, though I suspect it may be made even more fun by drunk-reading whatever you end up picking up from the library.
There are roughly seven billion billion billion atoms in a human body, none of which are asking you to eat that donut.
But the empty space between those atoms is equal to a volume that is far greater than the volume of said atoms and all that empty space is crying out for donuts.
Well said. Proof positive that the universe is shaped like a donut. And probably ate one too many donuts. Stupid fat universe.
Full of stupid fat aliens….
Fat universe full of fat aliens, and you just know they all want to come here, the planet that’s famous for donuts. That’s how we’re known universally. The donut planet. It’s our claim to fame. Our speciality. All evolution led to donuts.
If you want to be the next Amerlia Earhart, you need to learn how to fly but you don’t necessarily need to learn how to land.
Oh, ouch.
What, too soon???
Nah….but if you had said Kobe….maybe.
Too soon! Too soon!
It’s possible that she never actually landed….
Are you saying she’s still up there somewhere? Her genitals must be freezing.
Sounds peachy
If you worry about monsters in your trash compactor, you were probably born in the 70’s and still haven’t learned how to move beyond that decade.
Well, I’ve never had a trash compactor nor do I worry about monsters in them but I am most definitely stuck in the 70’s.
Pass the laser sword.
Never let anyone convince you not to wallpaper rooms in your house.
Agreed.
(I am bound and determined to finish this un-finishable thing!)
If you’re going to write a will, you may as well make it funny so that you can say that you got some laughs even after you were dead.
I plan on getting plenty of laughs after I am dead.
I am going to eat six googly eye-glasses, two gerbils and a hanky right before I end it all.
Now that’s what I call forward-thinking.
If there’s order to the universe, why is it necessary to expose your private parts to razor blades?
Ummm….what you do in your personal time is, well, personal, Trent.
I (personally) would never get anything like that within about 12 inches of my private parts.
(I also happen to have a convenient measuring device handy at all times…..)
Look, I’m just trying to point out a design flaw here. If God or Flying Spaghetti Monster or Chtullu or whoever made us all, are they just out to get a laugh by making things so inconvenient or is there some hidden purpose to this mangy flock of hair in the nethers?
If all the bees died, mosquitoes would get bigger, so please save the bees.
So would humming birds. And they’d probably start sucking blood.
Oh great, now I’m traumatized. I hate skeeters enough already, but to think about swarms of bloodsucking humming birds gives me the willies. I really don’t know what kind of canned repellant would deal with something like that. I suspect the first sting I get will be in the ass, for obvious reasons.
If every human being on Earth were the same colour, which attribute of which appendage would then be used to define the master race?
Penises. And their size.
Definitely.
Pretty sure history has already proven this.
Okay, so, I agree with this, but wouldn’t the practical aspects of this prove a bit daunting? I mean how do you do it? When some well-hung, cruel, immoral dictator decides to cull the masses, will he make a run on tape measures and have us drop our pants in the square? I mean, yeah, this would definitely lead to a race of longer penises, there’s no doubt… and, well, I’m having a hard time continuing this train of thought because now I have millions of long penises on my mind. Thanks a lot!
If you piss into the wind, there is a remarkably high probability that every drop will miss you – trust me.
I’ll have to take your word for it, but I’ll bet it depends on wind-speed velocity.
It also depends on your volume of spray, the concentration of your emittance, latent air humidity, your angle to the prevailing wind, the tilt of the Earth, and the status of Jennifer Aniston’s love-life. You can look it up.
And how much beer you’ve had to drink.
If you’re pissing into the wind, I hope it’s because you’ve drank a lot of the stuff.
The reason why religion should not be mixed with politics is because religion sucks, politics sucks, and the combination of the two in any proportion has led to a dramatic increase in suckitude at all points in human history.
NO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!!!!
How come the Spanish always get brought up when someone wants to inquisite someone? I mean, the poor Spanish are just never going to live that one down. Poor saps.
A 10-oz coffee cup will not hold all your pee.
Again. Depends on how much beer you’ve had to drink.
I’m talking about the average pee! Trust me! Any pee will overwhelm a 10-oz cup, especially when you’re stuck in traffic on the freeway.
If your sex life is slow, someone else’s is that much faster.
Speed ain’t everything…..
If your sex life is plentiful but rather boring and pedestrian, tell me about it so that I can laugh at you.
Concrete blocks are not a good substitute for Valentine’s cards unless they had it coming.
And only if the chain is strong enough.
Never let a vegetarian contaminate your meat with their vegetable juices.
Picky, picky, picky.
Those vegetarians are constantly contaminating my meat with their vitamins, and their nutrients, and their outwardsly-obvious health benefits! I’ve had enough! There is only room on my bbq for one or the other – the meat or the veg. Never shall the two touch!
An upside down garbage can at the end of your driveway is a sure sign that you have really made it, and that death is creeping up on you.
Or that someone has trapped a possum, raccoon or very large rat under it and you should probably just leave it…..
Well, that too, but I would argue that if you’re trapping possums or raccoons at the end of your driveway using a garbage can, death is not only coming but imminent.
It takes 1,000 digital photos to equal the value of one printed one, at least if you’re stupid.
And now that social media has taken over pretty much all of human culture, you can in fact once again have your soul stolen from you by having your picture taken.
I am quite certain of this.
Social media exposure = death of the soul
This is a good point. Those native tribes of long long ago knew exactly which way technology was heading and tried to warn us, but would we listen? Oh no, we just proceeded to strip them of their lands, send them to reservations, and sell them booze, all while snarkily engaging in our so-called modern life where we casually and routinely sell off bits of our souls via social media. I wonder who’s going to get the last laugh?
Take public transit everywhere you can until you have enough money to buy your own car, at which point you must swear at every bus that crosses your path or stops in front of you.
So now you’re watching over my shoulder while I DRIVE?!
You.
Are.
God.
Well, if I were God and were driving a car, and a bus stopped in front of me, I would evaporate that bus and every cretin on it very quickly, let me tell you!
Remember that no matter how much money you have or how great your job is, someone out there still thinks you’re a peasant.
Well, I think I’m a peasant so….
We, as fellow peasants, needs to start the revolution. This has gone on long enough.
If you think you’re a writer and you can’t really write anything useful, follow the ageless advice of writers everywhere and make sure you write something every single day anyway, even if it’s pointless drivel that makes you question your own self worth and has all the emotional resonance of elephant dung.
I’ll have you know that I have read some remarkably resonant dung.
Me too… and hence my little wisdom posts. Dung, possibly of the elephant variety, that smells remarkably foul in the nostril but leaves you with a dim feeling of resonance, attacking the neurons of your brain matter when you least expect it.
At least once in your life, attach drones to your nipples and see if you can fly, because one day – not now, not tomorrow, but someday – it’s going to happen.
Pretty sure that falls in the realm of Picasso’s definition of art.
That man was a genius. So is nipple-aided drone-powered human flight. Wright brothers – suck on that for a while, buddies.
Humanity can curb its overpopulation problem by inventing more sports that will lead to head injuries.
I’m all for it. Bring on the Death Sports!
Yeah no kidding. Why we so stupid? Analytically, I think the beautiful game of soccer is wonderful to watch but they hit the bloody fast ball with their heads! That’s dumb. Hockey? Hey, let’s smash into each other and occasionally drop our gloves for a tussle. That’s dumb. Football? Full-speed smash-ups fuelled by testosterone and various other performance-enhancing concoctions. Dumb dumb dumb. Boxing? Mixed martial arts? Don’t get me started. we need to ban these silly things, honestly. The only true game is baseball, to be honest. Bring baseball back!
Evolution resulted in both Donald Trump and Donald Duck.
And Donald Hall….and Donald Justice….So, I’d say poetry wins again!
Poetry always wins! But evolution? Sometimes it really sucks. I mean, it’s led to the dominance of Donald Trump. That’s got to be an evolutionary dead-end right there.
Never join a cult unless you’re reasonably sure that you can rise to the top.
I never join cults.
I only start them.
I would totally join a cult you start.
Never try to chop wood in order to make paper, when just burning the stuff to roast a marshmallow is what you really need.
Aaaaahhhhh
It’s funny how people overcomplicate things. I do that all the time. Need to take a leak? Better fix that porch door and rotate the tires on the minivan first.
And thank the gods I can close this tab now….
With a s’mores roast!
Oh yum!
Re- invent yourself. All the biggies do that.
I’m sorry but who are you? Wait, who am I? Who are we???
This is complete garbage.
I will return soon with some possibly aggressive awful things to say.
You should be sitting down.
Fay, sometimes me posting something inflammatory and dumb is the only way I can find to grab the attention of people in this space that I really respect and miss. Call it a ploy. Or me being a jackass. Whatever. Bring your aggressive awful things, I’d be pleased to hear them.
Gotta love a pseudonym with meaning.
You’re my favorite, Lewin.
Never stop.
A pseudonym with meaning indeed, Jones. I got a piece in my head just now that I think you’ll like. Will write it up in the morning tomorrow. Let me know what you think.
Which post was the one that you were ‘writing up in the morning tomorrow’? 🙂
Yeah I got caught up in other stuff. It’s coming!
Good — GIMME.
On it.
GIIIIMME
Gimme?
I just threw one out there but you’ve read it before. You’re the only one who’s read it before.
I *do* love that one.
Thanks Jones. I like that one.
I don’t know what to make of this, Trent. Or John. Or whoever. I don’t trust it. I also don’t think I like it. I don’t know whether you are retiring, blogociding, or caterpillar-butterflying. Part of me wants to say if the man is done, let him be done. Another part wants to zip through the ethernet, reach out through your screen, and physically manhandle your ass back down into that seat in front of the computer. Another part wants to say “you’re too good for this place” and push you towards to something else. Maybe you are doing/done/did that already. Whatever the case, I think we need more, Mr. Kinder Evers. But I don’t know what that looks like.
You’re a good man, Walt. A really good man. Mr. Kinder Evers sends his regards.
Well… This is way more frustrating than any of Trent’s actual posts.
When your main attribute is the ability to be frustrating, you start considering permanent departures a bit more seriously…
If your main attribute is the ability to be frustrating, you would be considering ways to remain frustrating as long and as often as possible.
Inconceivable!!! I can’t like this…how can I like this…I’m not gonna like this.
Trent, Trent, come back Trent…
If there is no hope for Trent then I am lost.
I’m not really going anywhere Michelle, just trying to make a dumb joke.
Thank goodness!! I’m old and I’m fat. Please do not give me a heart attack like that again!
You are a gem, Michelle.
If I were, I would be an amethyst.
Figure you get to pick. But you really are a wonderful online presence.
I didn’t mean any of the cheeky things I said. There’s a feel to your writing that I think I always understood. I just got tripped up on the words, like a hiker in a swamp, tripping over mangrove roots.
But blogging takes a lot of effort, and I can understand stepping away from it. I won’t try to pressure you to continue, or to quit. So keep the posts coming. Or don’t. It’s all good.
If you left, I wouldn’t say it’s all good.
I would. I’ve left before, and the break was refreshing.
I avoid trying to pressure anyone into doing anything they’ve grown tired of, or don’t want to do for whatever reason. So go have fun. Play. Do something else for a change, if that’s what you want. I hope you eventually return, because I enjoy reading your posts. But I doubt I’d enjoy your posts if you didn’t enjoy writing them.
I love writing my posts. I’m just joking around anyway. Write or don’t, figure if you’re a writer, just write, doesn’t really much matter if no one reads or gets it, who really cares. Just have to keep going.
You did share your life. Unfortunately, most of us didn’t understand it. We aren’t as smart as you. But you also seduced yourself, helped break a record, made friends, seduced yourself again, and did some other stuff.
I did a lot of stuff. I like stuff. Stuff also likes me. We get along. Occasionally, we snuggle. It’s nice. A little intense at times, but nice.
You are full of stuff.