My Goat Was Got
Well, way back in time, that is last month to get exact, I was gnashing my teeth in rage over a Facebook Niumer who was shouting out that those Niumers who had just got paid should stop by to congratulate themselves. And that got my goat. I was penniless. I was a moron. I was unpaid. My goat had been got, and when my goat is got, I am not a pretty sight to behold. Indeed, got goat or no got goat, at sixty-five I am not a pretty sight.
Wasting Readers’ Time
Now, I’ve got that one off my chest, I wish to waste my readers’ time (in an entertaining fashion, I hope) by drawing attention to the innumerable ridiculous phrases, expressions and idioms in English, not to mention phrasal verbs and prepositions, that allow wordy guys like me to punch in as much content as is required to get a blog out every minute or so on Niume, that is to get the dollars rolling in. Why, I am sure at this darned moment in time and syllable I am on my way to making another fast buck. It’s Niume’s fault, of course. They told me to put the cat among the pigeons and stir up the stir-fry in sizzling abundances, which I’m doing. Got it? Got the goat?
My Pal Paypal
Almost last but not least, when Paypal told me I’d been paid by Niume I wanted to get hold of that Facebook Niumer and join him in his heaving party of backslappery. Yep, I wanted to backslap my own back as heartily as possible till it was red in the face.
A Conclusional Sad Reflection On Hypocrisy, Playmates, de Sade And Hedgehogs
I reflect sadly on the human condition and mine in particular that makes an upright, uptight resenter cringe into a docile, backslapping and self-licking doggie. Though wagging my tail feebly (I can feel the vibrations under me), I wish for coherence, moral backbone and the stiff upper lip that always makes kissing women a painful experience – for them. Indeed, if I may digress just for a moment, I often reflect that I must seem like a hedgehog to some delicate ladies when I forget to shave the stiff upper lip, leaving red skin after my plunge into wanton lasciviousness. I have never kissed a hedgehog myself but I imagine the experience is not erotic unless you are Mr. de Sade.
And that’s about it, folks. Pathetic, mundane, unmemorable, but it’s twenty to five in the morning and I just had to “right” something to draw attention to myself and my playmate Paypal.