There was a day I heated with Feinmann when he said that "Any asshole has a Blog." At that time I catharsis with a fucking text to be read three or four people and be forgotten without any universal significance.
forced rest due to a medical exam spent my last hours to walk Blogs known and unknown. Feinmann checked then delivered his sentence reversed. Not that "any asshole has a blog "but the content of most blogs are a tremendous bullshit.
is not a great discovery of mine. Hopefully (statistically speaking) that if hundreds of millions of people get to write the first thing they head passes the result is a huge collection of nonsense condemned to oblivion or not will never be read by anyone (except the author himself).
words: We are not assholes who write but we write pelotudeces.
can not be I thought. There must be something good in the midst of so much bullshit. Applying the statistical criteria again I said, there is a small chance that, if I get to travel three hours straight, find some text or idea that excites me or catch.
Then I set to work. 1500 clicks I recommended links. I searched at random. I searched topics. I searched and recontrabusqué. I was cross-eyed reading black text on red backgrounds, yellow on white, green on blue. I saw hundreds of pictures of cats, dogs and babies. I read poems, love letters, hate mail. Salami found sublime believe they have discovered a new position for intercourse and pedantic with intellectual pretensions quoting Barthes or Kierkegaard. I met with Nazis, Communists, princes, Drogon, political, fucking, nuns and even a fan of Villa Dálmine.
After three hours sleep and had his ass purple hands. But no luck. Everything seemed like a turd. I found nothing worthwhile.
Shit, I said. Letter and intent so much for nothing. Why do not we kill them all at once and ready? The time we have a universal tool to communicate the endless pelotudeces use to express, copy and paste decadent news media sold to the highest bidder or express ideas misspelled minimum giants.
I rose from my chair. I walked a few minutes to desacalambrara ass while I thought it was the fart go boludeando among many blogs. I would find anything interesting. It was like looking life in the rest of the Milky Way.
But on the other hand, told me: Life itself is a boludez inconsequential until you random Random crosses the other, and from there, everything becomes interesting. At least for a while. Therefore, I will continue blogging and boludeando. I have for three days of rest as authorized medical ART. I never had so many days in a row to fart.
Right now I sit at the computer and happened to find "The Next Big Thing" in a blog that I reveal something, tell me why the hell the world is as it is, explain to me why there are injustices and abuse if God is good, give me simple answers to complicated questions, and above all things, explain to me why Monica Belucci not know of my existence. ---------------------------------------
is capricious chance. I looked
or not I came for. Where
You were not supposed to be;
and I went through, accidentally spent
happen. ---------------------------------------
Within three days I tell them.
PS: Listen to Harry Manx . It is a capo.
