Tag Archive: Wheel O’ Topics


As the Wheel turns…


Since I am decidedly uninspired today, I’m gonna let the Wheel O’ Topics tell me what to do. Spin, you crazy circle  you…

“Magazines that are hard to digest.”

Damn stupid Wheel.

Okay, then – Magazines that are hard to digest. Well, it’s been a while since my paper-eating days, but I would say that those glossy mags would probably go down the smoothest. The pulps, with their cheap and highly absorbent paper, are far more likely to end up jamming in your log flume which is a situation I never thought I would have to describe even in euphemistic terms.

Damn Wheel.

:deep sigh:

 The trick would be to drink plenty of water and make sure you chew throughly; pretend you’re making paper maiche. ( Which, in the most disgusting way possible, you are.) Be prepared for a night on the throne, that much roughage is sure to clean out the works. I suggest sticking with The Weekly World News and it’s tabloid brethren; while not technically magazines they will certainly do the job.

If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Crowbar and I need to have a chat with the Wheel O’ Topics.

And now … this.


So what am I going to talk about today? Do you really care? There are millions of blogs out there where whiny people bitch about there pitiful problems. As if any of that matters with the coming Zombie Apocalypse.

Damn, I need some peach brandy. Refreshment break!

Well, I’m feeling a little chattier.Let’s see what the Wheel O’ Topics has for us… “Talking to people”. Way to break the boundaries there, Wheel. Oh well.

Talking to people; personally I hate it. The more I deal with people in general the lower an opinion of humanity I have. That’s not to say that there aren’t a few people out there that are kind and decent, I just don’t meet them with any regularity.

“But, Ghostie” you might cry “what about basic human decency?” To you, my hypothetical questioner, I would say; “Suck it.” Truthfully, if you want an indicator of how thin the veneer of decency is, dawdle just a little too long the next time you finally reach the front of a long line. Grandmotherly little nuns will start calling for your blood, trust me.

With that out of the way, I’m gonna go hang my socks up to dry.