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As a mark of desperation for your approval, I add this:



Now you have no excuses.

Not one.

#heavyhandedirony

Fidel has had some interesting notions lately, what with cyborg women and all.

I noticed on his mobile phone that he had a picture (clearly doctored) of Sarah Palin in a T-Shirt with the slogan "Will fuck for food" in big black letters on it.

I was going to ask him about it, but didn't bother. Instead, I decided to join Twitter and see what the fuss was about.

What a waste of a day. Even Sir Dhahii's relentless demands that I play Halo3 seem slightly more appealing now. All those pointless little snippets of thoughts, or attempts at jokes (to me it seems that Twitter is about out-smartassing everyone else, more than anything else), chronicles of quotidian and insignificant rituals, or - worst of all - little bits of "wisdom" that some deluded fuckwit thinks will better humanity's lot (which run along the lines of "Anger is understanding in a raincoat of ...
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What the hell is going on?

I sit here, writing these little prose-based thinklings for my readership of 3 people (myself included), and Sir Dhahii goes on Facebook and Twitter and writes this kind of thing:

Homunculus seems to be truly back in action. And almost is positive about something: Charlie Brooker. What next? Backrubs for Chris Morris?

Or ...

Yeah. The Homunculus is back. We're still not sure that's a good thing ...

Or ...

Gurgles from the Pool of Embellished Cyber-nuns suggest that the Homunculus may be back from his travels.

WHAT THE HELL!?

Just because he's the webmaster here and occasional "backing lyricist" for Mungolian Jet Set, he thinks he can write this piffle.

And my activities in the Pool of Embellished Cyber-nuns are none of anybody's business.

So, Sir Dhahii, here it is:

You can take your remarks, your RAWK inclinations and you proto-gothoid Hammer Horror fanship and safely lodge it in the depths of a ...
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