Rem Formless Realms!
Thursday 1:24 p.m.
I read once that if you got as far along in the juju as moi, the worst you could hope for when you die was to spend a few eons in the formless realms. Bring on the formless realms! In the formless realms, no one will ask you why you haven't got a microwave oven because, of course, there will be no microwave ovens in the formless realms. Neither will there be any stupid thoughts. We don't believe in thoughts here in Amazing Bloggy Church of the Bad Boy Blissheid, so it will be a great relief not to have to put up with them. Beyond the idea of smug satisfcation we will be in the formless realms!
There will be no chariots in the formless realms and, therefore, no chariots to fung you up! My chariot got a puncture yesterday on the way to work. I realised then there was was no such thing as the nazi bike, but a collection of things carrying this label. Fung dukka basturns!
The first noble truth is the truth of dukka! Dukka is what you get when the chariot gets a puncture. The one brake bike (R.I.P.) didn't have a puncture in over twenty years of service, and I haven't fixed a puncture since I was a teenager, and I don't have a pump with me far less a puncture repair outfit! Fung dukka basturns is labelling for the afflictive emotions arising!
In the furthest off chance, I emailed someone at my work whom I thought might have a bicycle pump. This joe came over right away, and took away the bike without me even asking, and fixed the puncture, and brought it back without even a little wrinkle appearing on his forehead. What an amazingly helpful and wonderfully selfless thing to do!
I think some folk look at me and know immediately that I am a completely useless basturn, who can't fix anything and hates things, especially things that go wrong. The people who have their motivation in life pointing in the right direction can use me as a platform to express their helpful attitudes. There are some people like that around. I bumped into one yesterday. I'm not like that!
Now, apparently, I have to purchase accessories for the naz bike, such as, spare innner tubes, spanners, a pump, and a puncture repair outfit. In our Royal Family, if you have to give a urine specimen, you get one of the servants to hold your willie.
Coincidentally, I had to take the nazi bike back to the shop for a post-sale check and I'll be able to buy the accessories when I go back for it.
So I had to cycle the nazi bike somewhere this morning and get a bus back. I'll have to retrieve the bike later and this, doing stuff, has ruined my day. I don't like doing stuff. But it is a beautiful day today. I shall venture out in the nice weather to sit quietly doing nothing elsewhere!
I read once that if you got as far along in the juju as moi, the worst you could hope for when you die was to spend a few eons in the formless realms. Bring on the formless realms! In the formless realms, no one will ask you why you haven't got a microwave oven because, of course, there will be no microwave ovens in the formless realms. Neither will there be any stupid thoughts. We don't believe in thoughts here in Amazing Bloggy Church of the Bad Boy Blissheid, so it will be a great relief not to have to put up with them. Beyond the idea of smug satisfcation we will be in the formless realms!
There will be no chariots in the formless realms and, therefore, no chariots to fung you up! My chariot got a puncture yesterday on the way to work. I realised then there was was no such thing as the nazi bike, but a collection of things carrying this label. Fung dukka basturns!
The first noble truth is the truth of dukka! Dukka is what you get when the chariot gets a puncture. The one brake bike (R.I.P.) didn't have a puncture in over twenty years of service, and I haven't fixed a puncture since I was a teenager, and I don't have a pump with me far less a puncture repair outfit! Fung dukka basturns is labelling for the afflictive emotions arising!
In the furthest off chance, I emailed someone at my work whom I thought might have a bicycle pump. This joe came over right away, and took away the bike without me even asking, and fixed the puncture, and brought it back without even a little wrinkle appearing on his forehead. What an amazingly helpful and wonderfully selfless thing to do!
I think some folk look at me and know immediately that I am a completely useless basturn, who can't fix anything and hates things, especially things that go wrong. The people who have their motivation in life pointing in the right direction can use me as a platform to express their helpful attitudes. There are some people like that around. I bumped into one yesterday. I'm not like that!
Now, apparently, I have to purchase accessories for the naz bike, such as, spare innner tubes, spanners, a pump, and a puncture repair outfit. In our Royal Family, if you have to give a urine specimen, you get one of the servants to hold your willie.
Coincidentally, I had to take the nazi bike back to the shop for a post-sale check and I'll be able to buy the accessories when I go back for it.
So I had to cycle the nazi bike somewhere this morning and get a bus back. I'll have to retrieve the bike later and this, doing stuff, has ruined my day. I don't like doing stuff. But it is a beautiful day today. I shall venture out in the nice weather to sit quietly doing nothing elsewhere!
posted by Hotboy at 1:35 PM
6 Comments:
I don't know how to break this to you. There will not even be any realms in the formless realms. No truths, noble or otherwise. Why not leave the tim imprinting behind once and for all? It's lights out at the end. Enjoy yourself while waiting for death, you've got a job with perks, take up reading normal books. Get into some Mozart. It worked for me. Look at where I am now!
Your idea for conquering the mynahs sounds too much like work. How much do you charge to put up a big nest box for them, then smash it to the ground? I'll throw in a night with the old dear.
Adolf! Zeig! You certainly need someone to talk to these birds. I think 50,000 fat spots would be a good fee. Or, I could just chop their heads off and eat them. Only if it would help but. Hotboy
Adolf! Mein Further! Lieb! Will there be no realms in the formless realms? Hotboy
Going by my shortlived revelations of the matrix, death will involve a joyful reticulated alteration in consciousness. After this, it won't matter whether there's an 'I' consciousness present or not- immaterial. Does this help?
Ion: You made a better fist of it than Adolf ever managed anyway! Helps a lot! Hotboy
Can I help it if I have the common touch?
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