SuperGurl

Linda is back. And she is sorely dissappointed in you roaming jack-offs. Considering the sick, demented, twisted, unsavory search word combinations that brought you here, you surely could at least take your hands off your genitals long enough to type a simple comment in the comment box. I know you’re literate, however lacking in the spelling department.

Where has common decency gone? And why do I even have to ask?

And isn’t it ironic that half of them, er, you, come here looking for free panty? Listen up, wandering cyber trolls, I am the anti-porn in real life. I will make your privates shrivel up and fall off at one glance. It’s my Medusa complex, my most sacred super power. Think of it as an impotency forcefield. I can’t help myself.

And the fact is, I enjoy shutting you down. I do. It is the makings of AAA day in my world. So if you really want to charm me, if you really want see some hard core anti-porn, just sniff up this skirt. I dare you. I think I could traumatize you into a somewhat permanent state. Hey, I’ve done it before. And that’s without having nary a photoshop skill, not a one.

And this post has so little to do with it’s original intent that I’m having trouble circling the wagons here at the end. Suffice it to say I am in no mood to talk tenderly to you now that I see what brought you here. I’m in kill mode, so keep your hands where I can see ‘em and your freaky psychotic sexual phraseology to yourself. Unless of course it’s really psychotic sexual phraseology and then I want it in the comments, and not my referral log. You have been warned.

Don’t shit your celly, my monkey love, but I’m back. Do I still sicken you? I don’t know. Do I misser you? Baby, like mad.

What a hiatus it’s been! There has been no improvement in the equilibrium guzzle suckage at work. Highs and lows. Busts and bottoms. Volatility and confusion. Systemic risk. Scary times? Hairy times. Let me tell you about my cousin Larry times.

Do you think it’s possible that we’ve merely suffered an extreme negative demand shock? There was this surreal moment in time, back when Paulson and his posse were asking for the money at gunpoint, that everything just got weird. That week, I saw a slovenly family of troll people loading their pick-up with gallons of water and industrial bags of rice at the grocery store. Locally, bullets and batteries were stressed often among friends. And people seemed scarce in general, not wanting to gloat about their capitalistic tendencies anymore, ghost towns erupted like rabid cancers from within. Across the fruited plains and purple plunging mountain charts, people cowered together and triaged their assets, though too many bled out.

And I know it’s most popular to pretend this has never happened before, but it has. Kind of often, in fact. It reminds me of the year two thousand bug chaos, especially the anticipatory period which spawned a proliferation of cult variety fanatics, long on conspiracy but short on logic. I’m seeing a selfsame proliferation now. Not that it means it’s over, no way. I don’t know when that blessed day might come. Only that the pendulum has swung, negative gee!

But my blog works! Which means I will be available to talk you in off the ledge or give you a push, whatever it is you truly need. Welcome back to prozac, polarrhoids, and thanks once again for the wild ride.