A collection of rhyming prosaic insights insightful enough to roughly cover a simple idea of the Internet; how
it is considered in regards to humour and good natured trends managing the mores and habits of countless
users and affectionate fans.
Tie a note to that crack or serial number with a smile and wonder why when guys or gals like you put on a tie and write software or care about collecting compensation for services rendered, it may tend to happen less than more or more or less, less than before
I need a new diversion. Stories sometimes come close to describing light from a thinly disguised wise saying. Make an assumption and you and I can fund a theme park with all the shots in the dark about yesterday and how arks should have a holiday complete with currency in digital form.
Casinos take more than cash last time I checked. Try working with a bank sinking with or without the giraffes, passing off transactions as nothing muttering to the keys, 'How do I get to my money, again?'
The best laid plans, my friend, the best laid plans. . . .
Answers come easy to a crowd of rabbling rousers at a concert with a mosh pit. It is a given.
Living with grime under your fingers lends itself to lingering sensations of dim dissapointment. Anointing a new day on the job could stop anyone from caring about all you can lift trists with a government issue tissue or check. Let me be clear, swearing the net is marketing the latest in stagnant products or items is not difficult, finding a toothbrush at discount prices is an avarice meant for the bargain hunter with stunted internet savvy. It is simple to crumple up a receipt once you have it in hand, or mouth, as the case may be.
The trick is sitting on what you know until the market grows into the newness people will risk to own. .
I like to read. I hope you do too. Some people have grown into critical view points on those who loan a few ideas out to other folks they may or may not know.
Now, the last time I asked for directions, someone mentioned that I didn't have to thank them. This is what I know.
These individuals aren't necessarily any different from someone who might give me a roundabout idea regarding the time of day or even how to change a tire.
I haven't heard a waiter mention that my order was 'super' in a long time but I know that I pay him, so. . .
Telling the average internet guru how embedded animation is the new notch any designer needs to acquire is just about the same thing, but not really.
In short, content has always been king and I know a few jesters who still know it is so. .
If environmental issues and aggregate effect all pertain to one thing or another, the smothering affect a person may recover from lathering up with all this high and mighty rhetoric can take the stick tickling the backside of the up side in the whole shebang and rearrange it into a few words about can we all get along. I could write a song with a guitar and sit on the step for an hour singing about the doubtful reality that all we can see in a bushel basket is a casket for a tune. Someone singing somewhere is intoning the foaming realization that television stations don't carry much import when concerning a learning curve of energy conservation making swerving cars, perfect days and hurtling planets magic tricks and slight of hand. Man, it's tough to find a kind granule of sand big enough to sustain life, let alone a destructive if not wasteful one. .
If I were right, the night that passed before I ate that great helping of hamburger helper without the hamburger is larger than the day when my parents may or may not have given their approval towards weening hours words or dirges meant for a respective lot coddling each sodden ploy to get more play at the station. I mean, they are their grandchildren, mistaken as the aging coots could seem. Making them sleep, these young men or women, the life blood of linen sheets, pillows and hours that keep all those little heads at the computer screen is easier once teases like video killing the radio star, far reaches into one part music, two parts shenanigans and three parts chat all convert that technological convert into a precept of marketing madness. But not really. . . I would imagine it is confusing raising a child, considering all the wild diversion a coercive dip into fun and how it turns Monday school into a droll afterthought on Sunday's dossier. And I just bought a wireless guitar controller for my wireless, infrared, blue tooth stroller. The wife would be pi without the repeating decimal this time, I think. .
© CopyRight 2009 Slung Design