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War Room Lounge v93: I got a strep infection in my scrotum and I have no idea how

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Bless.

I think it's that I find myself alone on NYE again, is what makes that recall by you quite touching.

I did put myself out there, though. A couple of times. An Ethiopian and a chubby gal. Cunnilingus neck cramps, mornings consisting of inequal enthusiasm, brush your goddamn teeth before you kiss me. You know what's retarded? Elton John (Bernie Taupin) lyrics fluctuate in emotional depth with the ebbs and floes of fleeting relationships. Like, those are crap songs. And sometimes they're amazing. Why doesn't Paul Simon grab me by the aorta and squeeze until I'm 50 highway miles back down loneliness? These are the real questions.
Weren’t meant to be hurtful, my friend. Sorry to hear you’re alone at the moment, I’ve spent NYE alone a few times and it’s a bitch, but kind of freeing in ways. Although I’m the type that has no problem going to a bar alone and kicking it with strangers, had some of my best times that way.

Then again a night lying on the floor jamming Sir Elton vinyls and shooting tequila or whatever has its charm, too. I sense some epic GTA in your near future as well.

Whatever the case, just keep posting the funny for the rest of us.
 
Let's manifesto. Let's have enough - but just enough drink - to keep this on the tilty-level. You know, not enough drink to fall overboard. Enough drink to swap some sails. To achieve dynamic balance. Standing on one leg during an earthquake. It can be done.

Politics? I don't know, this is the definition of politics: it's the best definition ever: it's very simple: it's very true: this is a mirror-moment: pay attention:

Politics is choices over values.

That's it.


Google "politics is choices over values."


You'll find one reference to it: me. But it's not my phrase. It's the flippant phrase of a college professor who is only teaching in my neck of the bank account because his family likes Missouri and living next to a couple of major rivers. The way the sky bends into the horizon and the power of the lighting in July. He doesn't know how brilliantly reductive that is. He was taught in palaces of high English to use reduction only to present new ideas to less expensive minds whose parents could afford to waste them on public subsidy. It's his educational afterthought, the dumbed-down expression of somebody who thinks he will never water fertile minds. But he was wrong. He's a genius named Paul.

Paul is tall. Fitting, right? Tall Paul knew that the Comey letter was terrible for Hillary Clinton. Paul grimaced in November '16. Paul was on the fence between Obama and McCain. Tall Paul doesn't return my emails with the effort of other professors of the past.

Paul vacationed in Athens with the other professor, Will-Indiana Jones.

Will-Indiana Jones was a cynic in liberal clothing who knew he was brilliant at the expense of his brilliance. He also got a brilliant education and dumbed it down to us, in ways that he didn't know would awaken some of us. Reduction. He wanted to cheat on his wife and his satchel was made of the correct worn leather. He combed the sites in Africa while his rival stole the show at Stonehenge. I bought his rival's book and I paraded to him in front of another professor. His own book was about Feminist Archaeology. Correct. Politics. I told him obscure tales of the modern use of ivory in ferules (don't look it up, a ferrule connects a hook to a spear-pole, or a tip to a pool-cue). He put a question on his final tailor made for me, which I reject in favor of bullshitting about another African excavation. I got a 93, the minimum 'A'. He knew what I had done.

Professors profess and they do their best.

A liberal education is a bloody battleground where all of the wounds are invisible.

Chazz. What a name for a young PhD. I can't even recall if it was Charles. I do recall that his name was Charles. I pretend not to recall his name, that's my bullshit. So academic.

I feel that some of these academic games are not how the right portrays them. In fact, I know they are not as the right portrays them. Our reductionism is pure. Their is rot. Pre-conceived, not experienced and played out in cerebral and sexual tension.

Sexual tension? Yep. There is still that caveman thing happening. Your fucked up painting of gazelle on the cavewall that will only be found 14,000 years later is brilliant! Draw a big boner on one of the guys hunting it. That's so pure.

You will have to excuse intellectuals for playing this game at a level higher than you or your gazelle-gazing-dwelling ancestors could have anticipated. We hold the ivory tower because we hold the ivory tower. You cannot take it by force.

Come at me, bro.


Chazz was aware of all of this. He nodded to it at just the right time. He all but masturbated, and I loved it. I wounded him by pointing out that determinists like us had no temporal access to the time and place at which some thing could have said to be determined. That ain't in the Stanford Encyclopedia.

He also gave me the minimum 93 'A'.

Oh, I should mention. Some lower colleges think that a 93 is the prime 'A' grade. None of this 'B' grade 90-92.9 'Choice' grade.

Chazz and I sparred for two hours and, frankly, we were both close to orgasm at some points. The Intentional Phallacy. Oh how we stroked that one together while drinking from his Keurig and observing his rock-and-mineral office collection. I had him by the balls at some points. He was more skilled, though. Chazz won. And then Chazz, like every single other professor, told me that I had a mind for the bizz, and that academia was calling. I just knew how to play the game. I'm a natural. Does that make me a phony?

How smart am I? Smart enough to fake it.
 
Weren’t meant to be hurtful, my friend. Sorry to hear you’re alone at the moment, I’ve spent NYE alone a few times and it’s a bitch, but kind of freeing in ways. Although I’m the type that has no problem going to a bar alone and kicking it with strangers, had some of my best times that way.

Then again a night lying on the floor jamming Sir Elton vinyls and shooting tequila or whatever has its charm, too. I sense some epic GTA in your near future as well.

Whatever the case, just keep posting the funny for the rest of us.
Just finnish your game! In Swedish.

 
Let's thesis, brah.

Let's bullshit like a motherfucker with at least some appreciation for advancing human knowledge, and let's roll the dice that at least ONE of our students grasps something and changes the world. Let's become professors, breh. It is time.
 
On a long enough time scale, everything will come back around to being about our dicks. When that's no longer true, it's time for Viagra.
 
Let's manifesto. Let's have enough - but just enough drink - to keep this on the tilty-level. You know, not enough drink to fall overboard. Enough drink to swap some sails. To achieve dynamic balance. Standing on one leg during an earthquake. It can be done.

Politics? I don't know, this is the definition of politics: it's the best definition ever: it's very simple: it's very true: this is a mirror-moment: pay attention:

Politics is choices over values.

That's it.


Google "politics is choices over values."


You'll find one reference to it: me. But it's not my phrase. It's the flippant phrase of a college professor who is only teaching in my neck of the bank account because his family likes Missouri and living next to a couple of major rivers. The way the sky bends into the horizon and the power of the lighting in July. He doesn't know how brilliantly reductive that is. He was taught in palaces of high English to use reduction only to present new ideas to less expensive minds whose parents could afford to waste them on public subsidy. It's his educational afterthought, the dumbed-down expression of somebody who thinks he will never water fertile minds. But he was wrong. He's a genius named Paul.

Paul is tall. Fitting, right? Tall Paul knew that the Comey letter was terrible for Hillary Clinton. Paul grimaced in November '16. Paul was on the fence between Obama and McCain. Tall Paul doesn't return my emails with the effort of other professors of the past.

Paul vacationed in Athens with the other professor, Will-Indiana Jones.

Will-Indiana Jones was a cynic in liberal clothing who knew he was brilliant at the expense of his brilliance. He also got a brilliant education and dumbed it down to us, in ways that he didn't know would awaken some of us. Reduction. He wanted to cheat on his wife and his satchel was made of the correct worn leather. He combed the sites in Africa while his rival stole the show at Stonehenge. I bought his rival's book and I paraded to him in front of another professor. His own book was about Feminist Archaeology. Correct. Politics. I told him obscure tales of the modern use of ivory in ferules (don't look it up, a ferrule connects a hook to a spear-pole, or a tip to a pool-cue). He put a question on his final tailor made for me, which I reject in favor of bullshitting about another African excavation. I got a 93, the minimum 'A'. He knew what I had done.

Professors profess and they do their best.

A liberal education is a bloody battleground where all of the wounds are invisible.

Chazz. What a name for a young PhD. I can't even recall if it was Charles. I do recall that his name was Charles. I pretend not to recall his name, that's my bullshit. So academic.

I feel that some of these academic games are not how the right portrays them. In fact, I know they are not as the right portrays them. Our reductionism is pure. Their is rot. Pre-conceived, not experienced and played out in cerebral and sexual tension.

Sexual tension? Yep. There is still that caveman thing happening. Your fucked up painting of gazelle on the cavewall that will only be found 14,000 years later is brilliant! Draw a big boner on one of the guys hunting it. That's so pure.

You will have to excuse intellectuals for playing this game at a level higher than you or your gazelle-gazing-dwelling ancestors could have anticipated. We hold the ivory tower because we hold the ivory tower. You cannot take it by force.

Come at me, bro.


Chazz was aware of all of this. He nodded to it at just the right time. He all but masturbated, and I loved it. I wounded him by pointing out that determinists like us had no temporal access to the time and place at which some thing could have said to be determined. That ain't in the Stanford Encyclopedia.

He also gave me the minimum 93 'A'.

Oh, I should mention. Some lower colleges think that a 93 is the prime 'A' grade. None of this 'B' grade 90-92.9 'Choice' grade.

Chazz and I sparred for two hours and, frankly, we were both close to orgasm at some points. The Intentional Phallacy. Oh how we stroked that one together while drinking from his Keurig and observing his rock-and-mineral office collection. I had him by the balls at some points. He was more skilled, though. Chazz won. And then Chazz, like every single other professor, told me that I had a mind for the bizz, and that academia was calling. I just knew how to play the game. I'm a natural. Does that make me a phony?

How smart am I? Smart enough to fake it.

I think you need a girlfriend.


Happy New Year!
 
@Jack V Savage consider that missive a letter from the imagined superego of the subject of Good Old Neon, as I'd like to distance myself from it.
 
btw happy new years my fellow space cadets! ready to blast off for space force 2020!!!

tenor.gif
 
Let's manifesto. Let's have enough - but just enough drink - to keep this on the tilty-level. You know, not enough drink to fall overboard. Enough drink to swap some sails. To achieve dynamic balance. Standing on one leg during an earthquake. It can be done.

Politics? I don't know, this is the definition of politics: it's the best definition ever: it's very simple: it's very true: this is a mirror-moment: pay attention:

Politics is choices over values.

That's it.


Google "politics is choices over values."


You'll find one reference to it: me. But it's not my phrase. It's the flippant phrase of a college professor who is only teaching in my neck of the bank account because his family likes Missouri and living next to a couple of major rivers. The way the sky bends into the horizon and the power of the lighting in July. He doesn't know how brilliantly reductive that is. He was taught in palaces of high English to use reduction only to present new ideas to less expensive minds whose parents could afford to waste them on public subsidy. It's his educational afterthought, the dumbed-down expression of somebody who thinks he will never water fertile minds. But he was wrong. He's a genius named Paul.

Paul is tall. Fitting, right? Tall Paul knew that the Comey letter was terrible for Hillary Clinton. Paul grimaced in November '16. Paul was on the fence between Obama and McCain. Tall Paul doesn't return my emails with the effort of other professors of the past.

Paul vacationed in Athens with the other professor, Will-Indiana Jones.

Will-Indiana Jones was a cynic in liberal clothing who knew he was brilliant at the expense of his brilliance. He also got a brilliant education and dumbed it down to us, in ways that he didn't know would awaken some of us. Reduction. He wanted to cheat on his wife and his satchel was made of the correct worn leather. He combed the sites in Africa while his rival stole the show at Stonehenge. I bought his rival's book and I paraded to him in front of another professor. His own book was about Feminist Archaeology. Correct. Politics. I told him obscure tales of the modern use of ivory in ferules (don't look it up, a ferrule connects a hook to a spear-pole, or a tip to a pool-cue). He put a question on his final tailor made for me, which I reject in favor of bullshitting about another African excavation. I got a 93, the minimum 'A'. He knew what I had done.

Professors profess and they do their best.

A liberal education is a bloody battleground where all of the wounds are invisible.

Chazz. What a name for a young PhD. I can't even recall if it was Charles. I do recall that his name was Charles. I pretend not to recall his name, that's my bullshit. So academic.

I feel that some of these academic games are not how the right portrays them. In fact, I know they are not as the right portrays them. Our reductionism is pure. Their is rot. Pre-conceived, not experienced and played out in cerebral and sexual tension.

Sexual tension? Yep. There is still that caveman thing happening. Your fucked up painting of gazelle on the cavewall that will only be found 14,000 years later is brilliant! Draw a big boner on one of the guys hunting it. That's so pure.

You will have to excuse intellectuals for playing this game at a level higher than you or your gazelle-gazing-dwelling ancestors could have anticipated. We hold the ivory tower because we hold the ivory tower. You cannot take it by force.

Come at me, bro.


Chazz was aware of all of this. He nodded to it at just the right time. He all but masturbated, and I loved it. I wounded him by pointing out that determinists like us had no temporal access to the time and place at which some thing could have said to be determined. That ain't in the Stanford Encyclopedia.

He also gave me the minimum 93 'A'.

Oh, I should mention. Some lower colleges think that a 93 is the prime 'A' grade. None of this 'B' grade 90-92.9 'Choice' grade.

Chazz and I sparred for two hours and, frankly, we were both close to orgasm at some points. The Intentional Phallacy. Oh how we stroked that one together while drinking from his Keurig and observing his rock-and-mineral office collection. I had him by the balls at some points. He was more skilled, though. Chazz won. And then Chazz, like every single other professor, told me that I had a mind for the bizz, and that academia was calling. I just knew how to play the game. I'm a natural. Does that make me a phony?

How smart am I? Smart enough to fake it.
I give this post a 93. Just kidding. I give it a zero because I’m not interested in grading it. But I am impressed— but, then again, who cares? But I liked it.
 
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Woooo hooo!!! Happy 2020 WR!

tenor.gif
 
Tennis is a sport

Baseball no

Golf no

BJJ, although at least tangentially gay, yes
Baseball neither? Everytime I played baseball I just tried to sprint a homerun and we usually played 4 vs 4 so my perception is probably colored.
 
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