
Last night, as I returned to my apartment from the laundry, I heard a great rustle in the trees that formed the property buffer. Instinctively, I looked up to the spot where the leaves shook in the darkness, and saw the responsible party.

Last night, as I returned to my apartment from the laundry, I heard a great rustle in the trees that formed the property buffer. Instinctively, I looked up to the spot where the leaves shook in the darkness, and saw the responsible party.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Idiot's Delight, Podcastery, Site Stuff, Worst Of All
Continue readingswan song
A final performance, product, or accomplishment before someone or some-thing stops creating work or products, as due to death, retirement, closure
etc. From the ancient belief that swans issue a beautiful song-like sound just before they die.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Don't Know Don't Care, Thousand Listen Club, Unfairly Maligned

Before we begin; I hope for both our sakes that you’re wearing your protective mask while reading this. I can’t actually see you, so I have to implement the “honor system” and presume you’re a “good neighbor” who won’t somehow infect me with mystery germs through the endless tubes of the internet. I know you’re better than that; I can tell by the fancy mask you’re no doubt sporting inside the house you’ve been confined to for the past four months. Even though, as stated, I can’t actually see you.
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Mark my words. As soon as it becomes feasible, the father will be erased from the family unit forever. The word and the concept will be abolished and nullified. You can bet your life savings on it happening in the next five years.
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I’ve always known I was smarter than just about everyone else. Now, I have proof. Beyond the shadow of any doubt, I have proof.
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A long, long time ago, in a previous century far away, I wrote a song called “Doing Without”.
Yes, believe it or leave it, I used to “write lyrics”, although I never had much aptitude for it, and I preferred repetitive chants over sophisticated poetry. Plus, I was the vocalist out of necessity and proprietary right; I don’t have the greatest singing voice, I confess. I can carry a tune about as well as I can carry a Volkswagen bus. Not well, would be my point here.
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The number one rule of Spite Club is: You do not have to talk about Spite Club. All you have to do is accomplish or achieve something notable in the public eye. The rest happens naturally.
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“Climate change” is real. The idea that you can do anything at all to affect it is not.
I don’t care if that statement makes you mad. I get mad when I see people harping on and on about climate change, formerly known as “global warming”, formerly known as “destruction of the ozone layer”. It’s Don Quixote’s biggest windmill. It’s a fib you’ve been sold your entire life by politicians who want to distract you from matters that you can affect. It’s nonsense for keeping kids busy in kindergarten. You will tap-dance on the surface of Jupiter before you do anything that changes the climate.
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