I am outraged (that means enraged beyond rage). Why? Well I've joined the herd of
the furious and
have chosen to be outraged, and have Therefore dedicated myself to finding something every week to
be outraged about. And this week, this week, this pestiferous week there was NOTHING!
I searched and searched. NOTHING!! Can you believe that? A dedicated seeker after outrage, deprived
of outrageous satisfaction. An addict deprived of his outrageous fix. Aaarrrgghh!!
Last week there was a really good one. I found out that modern tiddlywinks are 0.02 of a gram
lighter than the good old ones. I was outraged for a whole three days about that. Very satisfying.
The previous week I found that road markings are an inch shorter than they used to be. It took me
four days of outrage to get over that. Very, very satisfying.
Sometimes I get a whole seven days of glorious outrage. That is very, very, very satisfying.
Like the week I found about a secret society that is not deeply in love with marmalade cats whose
stripes go anti-clockwise. I worked up a whole seven days of outrage that such people could exist in
a civilised society, and that their mothers were not spayed at birth. That was one of the best weeks
ever.
But this week, nothing. NOTHING!
That is outrageous. AHA! Something! I can be outraged that there's nothing to be outraged about. O
frabjous day!
have chosen to be outraged, and have Therefore dedicated myself to finding something every week to
be outraged about. And this week, this week, this pestiferous week there was NOTHING!
I searched and searched. NOTHING!! Can you believe that? A dedicated seeker after outrage, deprived
of outrageous satisfaction. An addict deprived of his outrageous fix. Aaarrrgghh!!
Last week there was a really good one. I found out that modern tiddlywinks are 0.02 of a gram
lighter than the good old ones. I was outraged for a whole three days about that. Very satisfying.
The previous week I found that road markings are an inch shorter than they used to be. It took me
four days of outrage to get over that. Very, very satisfying.
Sometimes I get a whole seven days of glorious outrage. That is very, very, very satisfying.
Like the week I found about a secret society that is not deeply in love with marmalade cats whose
stripes go anti-clockwise. I worked up a whole seven days of outrage that such people could exist in
a civilised society, and that their mothers were not spayed at birth. That was one of the best weeks
ever.
But this week, nothing. NOTHING!
That is outrageous. AHA! Something! I can be outraged that there's nothing to be outraged about. O
frabjous day!
