It's the Way to Free Candy and a Party Hat. Also, caring about the colour is not my forte.

"Dude."
"Yeah man."
"What do you have a red ribbon decorating your cupboard handle for?"
"It's not a ribbon, it's a drawstring from a sack."
"What the hell for?"
"It's useful for tying up stuff with, and in a pinch can lift a pretty big load. Convenient."
"But, dude...it's so gay."
<pause> "Well, what the f**k do you expect, the f**king silk rope I made my bones with?"

P.S. I'm all for people of any sexuality and do not wish to insuniate that being gay would in any way diminish killing ability or any associated activities. All humans are very efficient killing machines irrespective of whatever. There, even though that P.S. takes away from the original exchange somewhat, at least my politicosocial views have been set out.

Someday I'll turn into a giant bug or something

I'm my own judge, jury and executioner. Unfortunately, I seem to end up as collateral damage in a case of police violence (Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?) even before I stand Trial. Not that I refuse to take my own case (when ordered by the law, do so...), but it's as patently hopeless as one of them snowballs in the court of hell.

Ah, the joys of being not-at-all-famous and dribbling.

Oh, a new post.

Whacked from my status message. Which is whacked from me. I'm all opinionated, so I'll stick to my guns and say this does not merit a tw@tter account. Words are for reading, not for soundbites. I choose not to disappoint myself (although I may be slightly late on my own trail, Carmen Sandiago being a friggin' good crim. on toughie mode, I'll forgive myself the lack of a warrant). So here's giving this the diginity of a blog post:
Lands of fire, brimstone and tar;
Metaphysical mirages reflected from afar.
Where unfulfilled lives meet their demise;
And an unsold soul meets its price.