The Chronicles of Granny In The Bed

Awww! Things did not work out the way they were supposed to work out. Awww! Frown, saddy face boo hoo, events did not go as planned! The outcome was not 100% of what it was arranged to be! Oh my word! Oh my God!! This is not fantastic. The rain is in my eyes. After all the planning. After all that planning that was done! Oh lamentations! After all that thought that was put into the process that led to the failure! It was so much. It was worse than anything to see it all burned on a pyre. Planning, planning, planning, next thing, working, then not finishing because of something not working! One or two things, possibly three, were not as they were supposed to be. We did a survey ahead of time, to scout for possible issues related to things causing a failure. Well, come to find out, we missed some of those items on the list. Our pencil must have slighted over the check box without a second thought. Now everything is on the ground. Fire and sparks ...

Most data has been lost from the Postmodern Age.  What digital sources we have are fragments, unmindful p's and q's, altered instagrams, combined with the oppression of 1024-byte hyper-encryption that would take 13.6 billion light years to decode using every universal Turing maching [sic] known to have existed since 1850 AD, including every carpet loom ever devised.  Time friction eliminates the possibility of utilizing a universal Wells machine or the straddling of space time.  This is not something to scoff at, no matter what your political standings might happen to be. Thousands of Ultra Age religious organizations have sprung up who are finding truth in Postmodern and Ancient sources.  When a small amount of truth is found, it is quickly augmented with a mash of Ancient mustard and a few sprigs of Postmodern lettuce that have been lying around, plus a smidgeon of honey from the current Ultra Age that spreads easily, like the sage advice to never trust anyone, ...

By Artur Front Few people disgust me more than Shency Basherdall, the man who so callously ruined the grunge scene forever so that children these days have no idea what Eddie Vedder looks like.  Perhaps what is most disturbing, and has led to many jarring, dreary hours in the death grip of a sweaty nightmare, with Basherdall's face dangling above my bed Wizard of Oz style, gaping, teeth bent, is that Basherdall acts like he is not a bad omen for all of mankind and not even a monstrosity from space when it is so obviously clear that he is just exactly that.  Hanging over my bed, transparent and huge Basherdall's face has an all-knowing stare that shows, on the vanilla wafers that represent his actual brain cells, a stupidity that rivals the former producer of the Bill Hillenberystamp radio program.  This is nonsense compounded to the eighth tetration! Eddie Vedder, god of rock I was able to fool Basherdall, that vile degenerate, into allowing me to interview him ...

An open letter from Arnold Foldens, President of the International Sword Association: Dear Friend, We are seeing violence escalating in the streets of America.  We are witnessing, at the same time, a global crisis of local and foreign terrorists who are bent on destroying our freedom.  This has led law enforcement, politicians, clergymen, jocks, brains, class clowns, weirdos, band geeks, emos, average Joes, and other good people to ask, what can be done about it?  How can we, as a supposed free people, stamp out this epidemic that threatens the very lives of our unborn babies? The answers are not readily available.  The cowards that carry out these atrocities are not human beings.  They do not have a moral compass.  They are likely to continue unleashing their heinous designs on society until well after the end of time.  A ban on guns would not be effective - the bad guys will always find a way to get their vile hands on a firearm. ...

One, two, three, four, Five, six, seven, eight,  Schlameal Schlamazel,  Hazzen Pfeffer Incorporated We are going to do it Give us any chance we will take it Read us any rule we will break it We are going to make our dreams come true Doing it our way Nothing is going to turn us back now Straight ahead and on the track now We are going to make our dreams come true Doing it our way There is nothing we will not try  Never heard the word impossible This time there is no stopping us We are going to do it On your mark get set and go now Got a dream and we just know now We are going to make that dream come true And we will do it our way Yes our way Make all our dreams come true And we will do it our way Yes our way Make all our dreams come true For me and you!                                               ...

If you ever rowed out in the wake waiting on God's mercy, been swallowed by a beast of the sea,  and decided instead, at that moment, to embark trading your soul to Lucifer for liquid fungible real-world assets, then you know it is not an easy voyage to navigate.  Yet, for centuries the mainstream media has portrayed the psycho-marine transaction as nothing less than smooth sailing. As early as next week, the headlines for the Fox Sun Times Glob will read  Selling Soul to Satan Never Easier .  In this and other plethora of glamourized, dramatized, and sensationalized articles, Satan appears well-dressed with papers, pen, and notary public.  Everything the damned ever wanted or could dream of wanting is handed over in all its ridiculous Hollywood fluffery.  If only that depiction were accurate, we would all have good reason to breath a sigh of relief. Courtesy: FutureNews.org - we deliver news from the future day or night However, few are brave...

Park a car there - Sometimes the way something is supposed to be used is the way you should use it.  The default value is sometimes the best.  So just stop being a rebel and park your Vespa in the garage, and go to bed.  Now you don't have to worry - you're just like everyone else.  That will help you sleep. Start a cult - Let's face it, alright?  Mainstream and fundamentalist religion zealots are off their proverbial rockers.  Either way does not matter.  Pulpit jockeys throw on a suit and tie before they preach in the limelight.  That is the attire of a business man and the venue of a clown.  The collection plate now accepts paypal and bitcoin.  I know, I know, it was all foretold in their own book.  It is said that it won't end well.  Still, it makes you think, perhaps a doomsday cult is just the thing you need to jumpstart your white vanilla sex life. ...