All of you are Indian…

Vacillating and enjoying it thoroughly, the behemoth I work for is going through a lull that will last for about 15 more minutes. This, it seems, is a fabulous opportunity to watch reruns of QaF and Goodness Gracious Me and of course more of Steven Colbert’s reporting. Since discovering YouTube(there is a god!) my days(and nights)  spent slobbering..err..slogging at work have graduated to the cadre “sufferable” from the cadre “excruciating”.

Meanwhile, my political conscious is grazing those same pastures that ideally my unconscious should be grazing. Yes I have been extremely unsuccessful in completing Freud’s essay’s on Sexuality because

a) Brian Kinney is a hot tomali. Gale Harold should start snogging men again; even a boiled egg has more character as compared to him on Vanished.

 b) I am trying to write poetry.

Now, for those of you who are still not dead after reading the last proclamation deserve a coffee candy and this.

And yes, Everyone is Indian. Or Macacan. Whatever you prefer.

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~ by iconoplastic on September 1, 2006.

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