AUTHOR.CALHO: If I didn't write it, I would be hitch hiking cross country to Maine and then Alaska in that order. While taking frequent breaks to spread leaflets. And sit in diners. And write on things because I wasn't at a computer. I may still do that in a few years. Writing this also helps me forget about and better understand the limitations of being human, and keeps me busy enough to allow me no free time to burn the world down.

THEMATIC.ABOUT : Collapse often. The things that hold people together and hold them apart and scatter brains. The things that make thoughts go boom. The things that ooh and aah and [expletive deleted]. Sometimes poking around the margins where responsibility ends and the only one to look to is the Original Equipment Manufacturer and say "but, I already pressed 9 for more options and the menus are exactly the same. Can you just replace it?" The answer will be: "please hold." Sometimes hanging out in dark corners. Sometimes following the train tracks. Looking for ways out and ways in and all the while sharing the things seen and heard and done and drawn and written and scorched and healed and teased and caged and dreamed along the way.
Showing posts with label conor mcgregor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conor mcgregor. Show all posts

1/27/16

Conor McGregor Versus An Alarm Clock

"You try to come at me, but you have no idea what you're in for.  I don't sleep like an ocean.  I don't sleep like a stone.  I don't sleep like a mountain.  I sleep like death.  If you want to try and touch me, if you want to try to test me, understand you are coming to death's door and I just might answer.

Come at me as many times as you want.  Five minutes from now, ten minutes from now, 24 hours, a week, or a year from now, the results going to be the same.  You try to get under my skin with your chirping and whining about what should happen and how things should go and complaining for attention.  Well you've got it and trying to push my buttons is about the dumbest thing you could've done.  You jump up and down about how the next minutes should go, so let me tell you how they will go: you're going to scream and shout and dance around with your flash and noise and I am going to reach out with my reaper's fist and put you to death faster than switching off a lamp.

If you want a rematch, I expect it.  I'll be ready.  When you think you're big and strong and start pounding at your own chest, shouting "look at me, hey what about me", I will be there to bury you again, and again, and again until I get tired of your nuisance.  When I do, don't expect me to simply switch you off.  Expect me to break you into bloody pieces and scatter you to the wind so that no one will have to hear you run your sorry mouth ever again."
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1/23/16

Conor McGregor versus A Big Mac

"You're old.  You're done.  You're days are finished.  Look at you, you cannot even stand up straight.  If the king of burgers is what you are, then I am the God who shot you out of his left nostril not thinking people would come across your smear on my universe and take any interest at all.

I'm here to tell you that I am here to clean up this nonsense.  I am here to wipe you out of existence and the mat is my kleenex.  Don't talk to me about longevity.  Finishing you is going to be the saddest ten seconds mankind has known in ages.  When I'm done with you, there'll be nothing but a shell and I'll smash that too.

If you people want to see a fight, come to my locker room and watch me @#$% this thing... this garbage... out of my ass.  Big Mac, when it's over, you're not coming back, because this time I'm going to remember to flush."
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