Oh what a life!

In the ho hum drum way that life plods on, data after data transactions, capturing the record of your day. Would that my life were exciting, would that my websites were working, would that I could get out of bed and go get ready for work, would that, instead I shall start blogging, because it is Friday morning and heaven forbid I show up on time, that would ruin a record you have been setting since you decided life was more about not working with the highest mentality of driven production, but rather should just go &&@( itself, and why not…it’s not like almost killing yourself settling other peoples matters got you anything but heartache and financial matters that really get irritating some days; but not enough for me to care about working for someone else’s version of what my life will entail. My fate decreed long ago, that would not be the trodden path followed. Still, that does not mean, my time is not committed…to this project of yours that makes absolutely no academic sense by association but you reckon you can use the structure, plan and actions undertaken to justify going for credits for an MBA application, to which one friendly place is more than willing to give credit…I hope they have underwater basket weaving too! And Sanskrit, it is vitally important to the worlds economic systems that I learn Sanskrit, the very fabric of time and space is at risk, because have tracked that little bugger back in time and he has hidden in Ancient India, where yogis are want to make their homes, and wandering gods eating bird droppings for breakfast, definitely a sea of swirling potential, for me to discover the oldest story ever known, and thus defeat the beast that has ensorcelled me, by learning of its name: which coincides with so many dark events in history, that this white Rabbitt is sometimes just grateful for his little home in the mountains where the fey come for tea and tigers like to smoke by the riverside and watch the dead float by; this is the Market Tavern; did you think we would have a mundane day. It is battle Royal against a Korred from the Isle of Man, who travelled their from high mountains, through the twigs as they run the breadth of the Northern World, and he says he wants the King of Scotland and Russia in his basket of skulls. Ah me, the legacy of my life; I am the King of the Britons, somebody get it right. This is why I am hidden away up here in the frozen frontiers of towering mountains where dawn kisses the sky, if you were an ancient Egyptian, that is.

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