I sometimes compose the wit and wisdom of this piece o'crap site while doing other activities. I am very good at multitasking. I had a long political post writing itself in my cranium while I was mowing the yard yesterday.
Picture a bunch of monkeys sitting at cheap desks deep in my cranium pounding away at old Underwood typewriters. There is probably a bunch of whiteout in use. Not all of it is sniffed. A couple of the typewriting primates are smoking cigars. Another is drinking beer. One is just hitting keys at random. One little spastic rhesus monkey is in charge of research, but he can never seem to keep focus on the task at hand. One old monkey wearing a Cubs hat seems to function as a pseudo-editor. His ADHD keeps him distracted. That is how my posts are written.
So, back to the post my monkeys and I were working on yesterday. I have scrapped it in my mind along with the treatise on the French Foreign Legion, a long dissertation on the Cold War and a discussion of the Julio-Claudian women. I decided I did not want to spend a Sunday morning ranting about liberal dipshits like Al Sharpton or Morgan Freeman. Their hypocrisy and idiocy is apparent for all to see -- if you choose.
This decision is not too popular. The monkeys are screaming and throwing shit balls around my corpus callosum in a fit of rage right now. They want me to really expose old Morgan Freeman for the ignorant motherfucker he truly is. I am not going there. The Great Apes are in a rage. They yell that instead of wasting their talents on political rants while I pushed the mower, they could have been composing intricate sexual fantasies involving nurses costumes and thigh-high fishnet stockings with garter belts. The tufted capuchin is shrieking about how we should have focused on the mowing yesterday instead of progressive idiocy and I might not have cut down that orange chrysanthemum..
Things are turning ugly.
Oh my god, one of the spider monkeys has just smashed a whiskey bottle on the edge of my parietal lobe! He is waving it around dangerously. He's "gonna cut my white ass" if I don't expose The Obama for the Trotskyite he is. One of the chimps just turned over his desk. He is throwing his neatly typed pages into the air. A fight has broken out near the Lateral Sulcus. The editor monkey is just sitting there, smoking an H Upmann Chairman's Reserve and laughing at the chaos.. He suggests I read some other blogs until things calm down.
I need some more coffee first.