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RE: Public Internet Web Service, Twitter
“For every 5 seconds I do not have flapjacks, I shall break one window” — Peter Griffin, Seth MacFarlane’s “Family Guy” Having now experienced multiple, unfounded suspensions of my Twitter.com account; the defemation of my character, or Personae, as exists publically at the popular, public social web service known as Twitter, or Twitter.com (Twitter Inc.,…
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Hock Your Junk the Easy Way
So, i’ve got this idea for clandestine activities of whatever colours and persuasions you might wish to indulge. We got the Internet, yo! What’s more, we’ve got advanced communication channels, such as Twitter. #1 Define Cryptic Rhetoric “… no [un-encoded] messages on an open channel…” — Saavik
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The Business of Eynt Noughnyadam
(as it is my own text, I figure it’s fair-enough I re-text it. Actually unlike a Sienfeldian “re-gifting”, likewise, neither the re-tweeting, for “the it” originates from here. “It” is mine-owned. Authored, May 2012.) It’s true: having learned this, not from any legendary stank of fungus; no Funk of Forty-Thousand beers “Roughly equals State’s Tuition!”…
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Situation Normal All Fried Up
Log entry. No. For the trees. Triple. Three ex’s Abbreviate. Sir sit. Sir’s phone Sisters, alone. Chimed in so charming Slowly too low Organ flower sickly cohabited fail alcoholic got into get going waterfowl falling it’s hailing into the crack Mix it up Boy needed “more sax”. Tripled the flex Xxx slut. No twists in…
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Narco Blog
Narcoleptic. Pathetic fuck. Ever present: never. Not worth value. No new news, used to reach the waking hook; this boggled think-thing thoughts, the same. Lines. Far too distant; far to hook. Narco-boggled buried brain, a stranger, in straight in-line Bargain-narc Blasphemer original composition: 2009 04 09modified 2011-04-15
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Buster I. Brown
fate like folly grate Rx enamel squeaks one too many mustn’t sleep copied from elsewhere, as authored I and discovered, only God knows why: the God Damn Fake Rook
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Intranasal Induced Inception
release these horrors between what sinewy whores flows bloody cold diamorphine disease ebbs and tides deicide: damn dope!
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If you had to
say it over and over each time you hit each time you socked would you continue, swallowing would you play-date to use if not to hate a game of shuttlecock?
About
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Published in 2006, What’s On Your Brain is the personal blog of @ajaxStardust
It’s composed mostly prosaic ramblings.