Either my mind is too single-tracked to comprehend (kinda harsh, it could be the time of day), or I've somehow managed to disrupt the time-space equilibrium through my idle-ness and conflicting sleeping hours at home, this is something worth mentioning.
Here's a festive joke for you:
On Christmas Eve Santa Claus was getting ready for his annual
As he pulled his favorite pair of red pants on, they ripped.
So, he had to take them off and put on another pair, which were
a bit too tight. He then went to check on the rest of the
The elves were on strike. The reindeer had shin-splints. At
this point, Santa was BUMMED.
He went into the kitchen to take a calming drink, and the
bottle was EMPTY. Now he was really mad. All of a sudden, there
was a knock at the door.
Santa, in his angry state, ignored it. There was another knock.
Santa was in no mood for all of this. When the knock came again,
Santa --filled with rage-- threw open the door.
Standing there was a little angel who said, "Hi Santa! What do
you want me to do with this Christmas Tree?" Hence...the story
of the angel atop the tree.
Just so you know, productive week failed as predicted by some of you nonsupportive skeptics *disgruntled face*. But I really tried. Oh well, we always have next week to look forward to!
Stupid capitalist society. Life is not about working you falsely conscious idiots. RISE UP MY FELLOW PROLETARIANS!
Wishing he lived in a Marx's idealistic society,