Karma Kan be a Kruel Mistress. K.
Like most people, I believe what I see on television. Churchill can save me money on my car insurance, Ross and Rachel are so meant to be despite the fact that she's a cash-hungry temptress waitress and he's a rich doctor of museum stuff, and Karma balances out the good with the bad and visa versa.
Yes that's right, I'm talking about the fictional mysticism invented by the creators of My Name Is Earl. Except, I'm talking about a different sort of Karma. 'Cos unlike Earl's Karma, in which he does something good and is rewarded with goodness, my Karma involves me GIVEN something good and then having something bad happen to screw with me.
Example; I get some amazing news. If you're important to me you know what this news is already and if you're not important to me it's because this news means I don't need you any longer, you worthless bottom-feeders. So anyway, that comes in and I develop some kind of weird itis. Not isis, like the ancient-Egyptians, but itis as it, "It is so painful." I have to miss a stack of interviews and a screening of The Last King of Scotland, which I really want to see.
To add insult to injury, one of those interviews was with my wife-to-be, Gillian Anderson. So I'm thinking, "Good job, Karma, you NAZI. Something good happens to me through no fault of my own, and now I don't get to start my love affair with my future wife." And Karma's all like, "Oh no you did not just call me a nazi." So along comes friend-who-spills-stuff to bring me cup-'o-soup and Strepsils. Guess which one of those he spilled.
So, long story short, my life is about to change but I can't even process that right now 'cos I feel like shit and my carpet smells of powdered chicken.
Karma hates me. Well you know what, Karma? You're SHIT in My Name is Earl. Everyone knows Randy gets the best storylines, and you're just transparent and one-dimensional. Not to mention predictable. Go fuck yourself. The pleasure will force you to cut off your penis as a "balancing act." Prick.
Yes that's right, I'm talking about the fictional mysticism invented by the creators of My Name Is Earl. Except, I'm talking about a different sort of Karma. 'Cos unlike Earl's Karma, in which he does something good and is rewarded with goodness, my Karma involves me GIVEN something good and then having something bad happen to screw with me.
Example; I get some amazing news. If you're important to me you know what this news is already and if you're not important to me it's because this news means I don't need you any longer, you worthless bottom-feeders. So anyway, that comes in and I develop some kind of weird itis. Not isis, like the ancient-Egyptians, but itis as it, "It is so painful." I have to miss a stack of interviews and a screening of The Last King of Scotland, which I really want to see.
To add insult to injury, one of those interviews was with my wife-to-be, Gillian Anderson. So I'm thinking, "Good job, Karma, you NAZI. Something good happens to me through no fault of my own, and now I don't get to start my love affair with my future wife." And Karma's all like, "Oh no you did not just call me a nazi." So along comes friend-who-spills-stuff to bring me cup-'o-soup and Strepsils. Guess which one of those he spilled.
So, long story short, my life is about to change but I can't even process that right now 'cos I feel like shit and my carpet smells of powdered chicken.
Karma hates me. Well you know what, Karma? You're SHIT in My Name is Earl. Everyone knows Randy gets the best storylines, and you're just transparent and one-dimensional. Not to mention predictable. Go fuck yourself. The pleasure will force you to cut off your penis as a "balancing act." Prick.
Joseph, no reference to your knight-in-shining-armour who got you health giving supplies? I am SHOCKED and AWED. Dan's Emergency Friend Helping Home Delivery Service™ is no longer open for business. GOOD DAY TO YOU SIR.
Posted by
Dan |
7:56 AM
Oh you've really shot yourself in the foot now. I don't *do* ill people. Certainly not ill people who refuse to buy me Coco Mademoiselle as a birthday present.
*sulks*
Posted by
Kat |
2:42 AM
I'm sad that because you're important and also have a dissertation to do, you're not writing anymore.
:( That is how sad I am.
Posted by
Kat |
2:28 PM