My cousins facebook page

ᛟ its harder than you think to maintain a facebook page. Harder than I think. Strange.

[tab]thers really nothing here, just distraction. But did you look at yourself today, really your deepest animal hunger, did it surface even once?[/tab]

Yes! That pretty much captures my experience between 1985 and 1992.

At no time between 1985 and 1992 did anyone say to me: “You do realise the purpose of a koan, don’t you!!”

As far as fb is concerned - I didn’t realise I had so many racist friends until I joined Fb.

How fast are we travelling? Or are we static?

It is my understanding that you are a fan of Donald Trump.

If someone writes a post, And it is cryptic. Or Greek? Or Latin?

What is it, do you suppose, that makes them feel superior to someone else?

Moths do not feel superior to butterflies.

What say you?

I’m pissed.

Aye.

Yes. My apologies. Let’s be kind and say, I got a little bit carried away

And here I thought we were bonding.

:slight_smile: Very creative! =D>

Satisfaction Guaranteed
Some animals sat round one day, engaging in a chat.
Nothing in particular, just discussing this and that.
‘Who’d ever be a squirrel?’ said an otter to a stoat.
‘I would,’ said a rat. ‘Although the chance is quite remote.’
‘Well you look a little like him,’ a robin chirped his view.
‘Yet come to that,’ a sparrow said, ‘I look a bit like you.’
‘But you’ve not got a flash of red,’ a blackbird pointed out.
‘You’re not the brightest thing around,’ a thrush was heard to shout.
‘Whoa! Come now,’ said a butterfly, his words echoed his grace.
‘Whoa, come now,’ mocked a flapping moth, ashamed to show his face.
‘Look – things are getting out of hand,’ a swan thus aired her view.
‘And what the bloody hell,’ said a goose, ‘has it got to do with you?’
‘Be pleased with what you’ve got,’ said horse, his voice was plainly heard.
And then pointing to a donkey, said, ‘Shsssh… don’t say a word.’

In the meantime the squirrel had waveformed away into his web of wood against the skies, being god and all, and went on eating a nut he had gathered.
He wasn’t aware of any competition.

A crow came and sat by him and together they had some fun, wyrd wicked fun of some sorts, the likes of which we shall not know unless we enter Walhalla.

Or maybe the forest, at the right moon.