Skyscrapers are all so inorganic. What can you store in all that vacant office space. Would you prefer to start a small business or an IBM. Whatever you do get Kasparov to wire up that deep blue hot rod. My chess board was smuggled in from Mexico and is now sadly lost, or stolen. Maybe Grandpa took it back to play with all the Dostoyevskie's in heaven. Crime and punishment fluffy fluffy cloud style. Oh they must be board, sitting there waiting to make a move every thousand years. Raining down on all of us dastardly Babylonian sinners. Ok base 60. Ishtar gate and whatever else was pillaged. Gilgamesh you were so close to obtaining immortality, we will never forget you.
Bore in G, if you dare. The world comes to me to tell me I'm boring, so I try not to disappointment them. I even have a plot for a horror movie called "Boring". I don't think I will sadistically make it into a feature length film. Maybe a foreign film, or a documentary, or a cult classic. It will definitely be initially released on VHS in a haunted Blockbuster. The player will be in one of the old suitcases smelling like a dank spotted mold and get in the hair cobweb basements. I'm making you suffer, so I will include a small treasure to make things worth your foray into the media dungeon. Honey do you need batteries for the flashlight or can you handle the growling noise under the stairs? Call me if need a hero who remodeled the worst basement in America.
Today I'm going to make a subtle improvement too? Can one get a job searching for jobs? My self employment is always suspect. Because I pay myself with intellectal property which I then share with my media wife, whoever she claims to be. Sometimes she jumps out of the digital kitchen with cookies. She is recombining now, slightly beyond the status of TV commercial. Jingle bells and a black dress. Others get slightly jealous, she is fine and complex, and I try to keep her enticed.
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