Like sands through the hourglass...
June 9th 2008 01:08
So are the days…
Shall I finish it off for you?
Nah, you know the rest…..
*Cue soothing, vanilla-plain and vaguely irritating music*
So is this one-person’s-trash-is-another -person’s-treasure show still on these days?
Maybe.
I have no idea to be honest.
I think a few years ago the invariably fat, invariably middle-aged heads at one of the screening networks here tried desperately to kill it off but the invariably fat, invariably middle-aged housewives who idolised the show with devil-worship fevour refused to let it die.
No.
With frightening gusto they dog-humped the hapless network’s legs - relentlessly and maddeningly - until they put their gun down, as it was getting rather, er, messy…
So what about these sands anyway??
And how can we be sure the hourglass is actually a whole hour and not like….well, I dunno, 42 minutes and 59 seconds???
If time is really running at the same speed, all of the time, then why is it that one day we’re wishing horse-head Yvette would move her trowel-applied made up head from the view of Steven Evan’s ass in the Scottish teacher’s history lesson and seemingly, the very next, we horrifyingly discover a grey pubic hair and then removing said offending pubic hair as quickly as possible?
And why is it that as pretty young things we could go out in the middle of winter to the latest nightclub wearing tiny scraps of clothing, never feeling the cold as we waited patiently for hours outside to be let in and now we have to wear our goddamn thermals to collect the mail from the letterbox?
Where did all that time go?
Is it residing at the same place where all the kids missing socks and runaway pens from work have disappeared to?
Is there an invention yet to get it back?
Is there a Marty McFly out there lost in time and a Doc Brown, feverishly tinkering in his white lab coat, fuzzy hair and big buggy eyes with the sequence of events we use in religion, philosophy and science to rectify the major problem of youth being wasted on the young????
Sigh.
I don’t think an hourglass is appropriate at all.
I think an out of control roller coaster ride that has had the brakes fail – dismally and dangerously – is the real symbol of time.
Not some dopey hourglass.
So what to do about it?
Nothing.
Just buckle up, hang on tight and hope this thing has bloody big airbags…
Shall I finish it off for you?
Nah, you know the rest…..
*Cue soothing, vanilla-plain and vaguely irritating music*
So is this one-person’s-trash-is-another -person’s-treasure show still on these days?
Maybe.
I have no idea to be honest.
I think a few years ago the invariably fat, invariably middle-aged heads at one of the screening networks here tried desperately to kill it off but the invariably fat, invariably middle-aged housewives who idolised the show with devil-worship fevour refused to let it die.
No.
With frightening gusto they dog-humped the hapless network’s legs - relentlessly and maddeningly - until they put their gun down, as it was getting rather, er, messy…
So what about these sands anyway??
And how can we be sure the hourglass is actually a whole hour and not like….well, I dunno, 42 minutes and 59 seconds???
If time is really running at the same speed, all of the time, then why is it that one day we’re wishing horse-head Yvette would move her trowel-applied made up head from the view of Steven Evan’s ass in the Scottish teacher’s history lesson and seemingly, the very next, we horrifyingly discover a grey pubic hair and then removing said offending pubic hair as quickly as possible?
And why is it that as pretty young things we could go out in the middle of winter to the latest nightclub wearing tiny scraps of clothing, never feeling the cold as we waited patiently for hours outside to be let in and now we have to wear our goddamn thermals to collect the mail from the letterbox?
Where did all that time go?
Is it residing at the same place where all the kids missing socks and runaway pens from work have disappeared to?
Is there an invention yet to get it back?
Is there a Marty McFly out there lost in time and a Doc Brown, feverishly tinkering in his white lab coat, fuzzy hair and big buggy eyes with the sequence of events we use in religion, philosophy and science to rectify the major problem of youth being wasted on the young????
Sigh.
I don’t think an hourglass is appropriate at all.
I think an out of control roller coaster ride that has had the brakes fail – dismally and dangerously – is the real symbol of time.
Not some dopey hourglass.
So what to do about it?
Nothing.
Just buckle up, hang on tight and hope this thing has bloody big airbags…
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Comment by Maks
Comment by Anna Kovacevic
So who are you anyway?