I hate to sound so much like everyone favorite proselytizer of the unyielding, enlightened truth, but indeed the Umbrage demands unwavering prohibition.. We really cannot delude ourselves into thinking we've evolved nary the slightest measure in refinement to allow misguided do-gooders free-reign. Hell, I’ll write the grant application for the deviated-septum repair surgery in Canada, just don’t make me smell your misguided delusion. Any notion [2] that a purer, civilized Aesthetic now exists among the refined nostrils of home sapiens sapiens when a de facto approval is suffered for some Pro-Proboscises societal inclusive and utterly quixotic pursuit.. Maintain what you know deep down in your hearts, the logos tells you just as it tell me[3] slightest accommodation is provided for those...those second-hand scenting, factories of rank.
Patchouli oil is wrong.
And stop rationalizing with adolescent notions of accruing hypothetical “cool- points” with the free-loving hippy chicks of youth. The sacrosanct obeisance act of Patchouli scent release abruptly makes you remember something from your early childhood and that you can’t quite recall in less than primal and visceral regurgitation contractions. You just turn that congested-nostril to the issue blowing in the wind (and as much as we would all like to delude ourselves, a hot hippy chic will NOT be more likely to provide good lovin' to any of us by such shameless pandering. She’d see right through it, surely…. Then add in the deeper question reflecting our fundamental character and integrity -- “How could: anyone with a shred of dignity even consider a floral, sun-baked road kill radiating toxic-wasted and HOT, hippy chick given us good lovin’? Isn't that just hypocrisy in pure form? Are we monsters?
WAIT Did I actually type that, whoa, how could I possible fail to recall all those philosophy classes at Radford? I studies Negativity Land T-shirts, camels, botany and oh, yes, I remember, I remember: First principles first. The answer abides, Dude! Use the force, technology and trickle-down economics! That ointment our mothers thrust upon us, the moving out of your parents basement at last and before 40, mentholated rite of passage[4] Come on everyone and say it out loud: VIX!!!!
Okay, nix that, as long as there co-exist hippy chicks and good lovin' even when used with that hideous Patchouli stink, any compromised is worth it as long as we've got that old, rusty jar of Vix vapor rub there is no rational reason to abandon the shot at hot hippy chic love, given or received.
++Give peace a chance y'all!++
-- The UberWench
(who incidently is a post-modern, pseudo-hippy chick wannabe who just sprays a bit of the old Jovan Musk and is DONE!)
http://ProvocativeMediocrity.blogspot.com/
[1] Yup, I mean that don’t really seem to take all that many showers or spent much time in the deodorant section of Walgreens.
[2] Even the drawling of a picture of a shadow of a. cave with some Play-Dough Formations dolled up in sexy hemlock leaves of golden meaniness.
[3] Not to mention all my imaginary friends here laughing at you. Ha! Ha- Ha! Ha! They heckle and you wonder “but who knows? Who can be really sure of anything in this quantum-physical touch world of karmic nihilism rounded in punctuated relativity, for the love of God, how can any of us know if we’re more here than not here right here right now?” (Please slap-her post haste lest she frighten all the men-folk into listening to Rush Limbaugh)! Well, I’m here to tell you, there is something else… a world of… oh, sorry, (um-hm) The Logos Shadow Puppets, you know the ones, biding their time following vainglorious birthing rituals of the twitching Wizards among us. Those mighty sorcerers inducted in the clandestine Dionysian acts involving scrumptious gluing, small objects of plastic and flip-side surfaces in places of notoriety. Don’t feel under you desktop, if you find anything there’s that all you, brother but maybe, next time when you least expect to be acutely aware and we all know when those moments occur most.. Freeze that grin and pay attention – well, actually yeah, when you accidently pay attention it is sometimes we need not scream out in lamp-shaded nudity “The Horror!” Sometimes, if Oh my friend, do not doubt it, those seemingly quaint kitschy plastics harbor a chathulu-depth navigable. Oh yes, they know Patchouli oil STINKS. You can be sure, they know it in spades!
[4]Yup, those of you quick on the draw, that does mean that YOUR MOTHER was NEVER a hippy chick so stop those nasty thoughts right there young man and go wash your hands! NO SOUP FOR YOU!
