Spoons
In the Past, I have had occasion to pen discourse on spoons.
Because they are hugely significant …
Enormously significant
Massively so …(and I’m not just boasting about the size of my spoon here) … In fact it’s so significant that, when searching for things I had written containing the word ‘spoon’, this turned up
… and it doesn’t even contain the word ‘spoon’ … not even as a tag.
It’s quite possibly down to clowns messing with the universal balance
… removing instances of the word but leaving traces in the matrix:
Or maybe adding links to them where there are none, so that things show up that otherwise wouldn’t.
Because it seems that, even when I’m not writing about spoons, I’m minded to mention them …
Somebody once asked me what the cult of Infinity 847 was all about.
I said …
If you consider that there are 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon and you divide (Infinity) 847 by 360 (a full circle) the answer is 42.5 (which is statistically as near as matters to 42 … the meaning of Life the Universe and everything.
That´s probably why the number doesn’t work when you call it, but it comes full circle instead … appropriately infinite — I’m Eva Lindbeck and so´s John Malkovich.
It´s a (literally) sideways take on the number 8847, if that makes it any clearer (it should).
As Baron Laba say: sing, dance, drink, smoke, take drugs, fuck, kill, fun.
However, I suspect that it may simply be Lajoba masquerading as Baron Laba, or even Bajola— well, d’uh! … but you get my drift … it is hard to tell. And dangerous to mix up the six of them. I suspect the Scarecrow may have a point and it’s better not to meddle, lest I draw attention to myself. Bit late for that now though. And I am determined to find out what i847 is all about. Now I know about it (no matter how little) … I’ve just gotta find i/i0 — I bet the Jamaicans know something about it (them and their “I and I”).
So …
Spoons.
Mightier than even the pen: some of those latter are made of metal and could potentially save you from lightning strike, yes … and, yes, you could theoretically untwist your pen and use it as a tube to suck yoghurt up with, but it would be a lot of hard work, likely taste icky (inky) and might even cost you your life as you have an aneurysm like that guy who strained too heard whilst pooping and died as a result (Elvis? ¹) — it is, after all, not one of these, yet still shares that characteristic with it.
Not that she doesn’t have her own issues with pasta
… but the Likes of Aura Wilming would have you believe that they are not important.
Just stop for a moment though and ask yourself: who tries to persuade anyone that penne is anything other than the devil’s own extrusions? Really … just watch her try to persuade me (here) that penne aren’t evil — seriously … who does that?
Just imagine trying to eat ̶P̶e̶n̶n̶y̶ penne (sorry, Penny) with a spoon … it’s traumatic, isn’t it?
The … urrrrgh, I can hardly bring myself to say the word … tubes … springing erect from the spoon onto the table/across the room, spraying you and everyone else with …. eeeeewwwwww … juices … from their … omg, it’s disgusting … long, hollow interior … on their journey to the floor, where they’ll stain the carpet (and rubbing it with a Kleenex just makes it worse).
It’s just not right I tell you … not right at all; even E. Scott Alighieri would be repulsed. In fact, so would Stephen M. Tomic … and he’s French! In fact, so would even the left hand of Darkness (and she eats Tapir! ²).
Now look … it’s not that I don’t like pasta. I love pasta. When it comes to pasta I’m as Italian as the next Nooyoiker.
But I’m not Dutch … there are limits
Why would she be trying to persuade the World of the need to eat a foodstuff that requires a fork if not to distract us … and lead us from the path of yoghurty righteousness (possibly even to a lightningy death)?
She may be working with the Jamaicans.
Or in league with the clowns.
Either way, like the farmers, she’s (possibly) up to something.
I’m struggling to think of a way to finish this now, but I think I’ve made the point … and, besides …you shouldn’t be eating Pot Noodle in the first place anyway — not unless you have some unresolved issues that you really should probably talk to someone about³.
—
¹ Nah … he’s still alive.
² Probably cockroaches and spiders too, I shouldn’t wonder: gibbering and howling all day and night takes energy and there’s not a lot of protein to be found in her basement/attic (where the respectable members of the family have locked her away to hide their shame and protect the community) and there’s only so long you can make an endangered species last before it starts to rot.
³ And that’s coming from the man who eats curry flavoured Pot Noodles at 7am just to see if it still hurts today or whether I have finally desecrated the temples of body and soul beyond repair and am simply too jaded for anything to touch me spiritually any more ⁴.
⁴ There’s no evidence that Pot Noodle is made from actual food of any kind, just various numbers ⁵ (I think Pot Noodles are computer generated, to be honest) and, therefore, no way even in Hell that you’re ever gonna persuade anyone you were eating it for any wholesome reason (like sustenance) ⁶.
⁴ Like most (if not all) of the alleged beer in the UK:
⁶ Although …. having said that …
Until you’ve …
- eaten Curry Pot Noodle for breakfast at 7 a.m. — because “my body is a temple …. and I’m desecrating it.”
- sat on the kerb with your feet in the gutter, sharing their Jägermeister with the local down-and-outs in Berlin at 7 a.m. …
… you haven’t truly lived — and, whilst I can’t promise you’ll get robbed and stabbed, at least you’ll be in with a chance.
