Factories II

I have no idea what year this factory was made in. Completely made of concrete and in front of this mountain that the concrete came from. With holes and crevices the mountain waits. I want to explore what is behind it, but no one really knows. It's so sad that someday the entire mountain will disappear and the entire world will get to know the secrets behind it. Just because of the endless great supplies it offers to this fucking factory. See the trees on the left corner? Those offer heat and paper. See the beautiful rock face? That offers concrete for this new section to the left. Yeah, it's going to be great when the half robots get to explore emotions for an entire day. The new section offers everything in the subject of emotion for robots. A room for love. A room for hate. A room for joy. Even a room for paranoia. They say soon they'll be so close to normal that we won't be able to tell the difference. But who cares? It doesn't change the fact that I'm still standing here sixteen hours a day slapping metal over the not yet beating hearts.
-Conrad

Factories

"A marvelous feet of modern engineering this place is!" This is spouted from the same half mechanical human thing that gives the tours ever hour in front of the finished products. More fucking half mechanical human things. I have no idea what purpose they serve or why I'm stuck slapping on metal plates over hearts that beat with no direction. I mean there's no blood in them when I slap the metal on. So the heart has no purpose, but it keeps beating. It's just like some kind of lost puppy that keeps on cuddling up against its dead mother. The blood comes last. Step nine. Step nine in human building. Yes, a marvelous feet of modern engineering. At the end of every hour, the tour comes to where the blood is transfered into the bodies. A huge sound rushes into the room and everyone is taken aback for a second. Then the demented human gets spewed out of the factory. Everyone claps. A part of society now! Fuck, I hate my job.
-Conrad

Dolphins in the Field

Field of what? Well like poppy seeds and sunflowers and some sort of long triangular dance structure that can move around in three different patterns of dance. That's the sort of field that dolphins can exist in. They can swim through the fields and do really huge jumps through hoops. I'm all for animal rights and for animals, but I think it's so cool when they jump through hoops. It's so graceful and everyone around knows that the animal trained harder to jump through that hoop than anyone else in the room trained for anything. That's the kind of stuff that happens in the field. Or in THE field? Field of what? Engineering.
-Conrad

Notes on Zombie Parties.

Get out of your costume. Now. If you don’t, what will happen if the actual zombies come? “Oh, look at how wonderful that costume is!” Then the costume starts ripping off your best friend’s arm. There’s blood on your mom’s redone kitchen, people start screaming, then the world ends. Every time there is a zombie party that’s the chain of events that go through my mind. Zombies aren’t like they used to be. They are smarter, can swim, and sometimes play trombone. They know if they go to a regular party everyone will flip out and run away. But zombie parties present them a unique opportunity for mayhem. You know in Serenity where they dress their ship up like a crazy one so that they can go to that place? Yeah. That was cool. Unlike your zombie party. So get out of that costume, because if you camouflage a zombie, you are with the zombies.

-Conrad

DRONKVALLE U.R.S.A.R

Dronkville exists in 1962 Ukraine. It's like communist Russia, except with dronk. DRONK DRONK DRONK DRONK DRONK DRONK DRONK DRONK DRONK DRONK DRONK DORNK DORNK DORNK DORNK DORNK. Like that. I think repeating words over and over and over and over and over again is fucking harlariourous. Like funny. Really funny. Because if you say words over and over again they eventually become so funny because you don't know what day you are in the century of my brain. My brain doesn't exist in this century. Because it is dead. To a point of no return. I hope you read this because I might die of being dead. It might hurt. I hope it really doesn't; I'm afraid of living my life in fear. I hope that doesn't make any sense because I hate you.
-Conrad

Chrome House

Overtime it became run down and rusted, but ten years ago!? Why it was fantastic and the chrome would glisten. Ever since who knows the words ate and cut up little sticks, the sticks that couldn't burn at one million degrees, things started to change. Everyone would always try to set them aflame, but it wouldn't work. Years went by but the scene never changed. Destroyers had one idea with their lighters and ovens and shared that one idea. So no brains ever grew or expanded. The odd occurrence of the destroyers never changing left it it intact and wondrous. Cunning was hard to come by. But eventually they found the monster. And the monster knew many ways of destruction. He saw the chrome house and its tranquil landscape and was so enraged he ate everything around. The scene around the house that didn't change for so long was consumed in five seconds. Now with its friends gone it was lonely and started to fade. I've come to it again with love many years after the monster. Oh, how I hope it gleams again!
-Conrad

Ghost Weight Loss

Ok, so I'd like to raise the topic of ghosts losing weight. It's a weighty! excuse the pun, issue is soon to be addressed. Lets say you were fat when you died. And your ghost turned into a fat ghost. Because you're fat. But you come to an epiphany, and you want to lose weight. Its time for your fat ghost to be skinny. You want the ghost next door to notice you. Then. YOU CAN'T LOSE WEIGHT BECAUSE YOU'RE A FUCKING GHOST IT MAKES NO SENSE AT ALL TO ANYONE. So you're stuck like that. So as humans lets start to make life easier for all ghosts and make sure to be thin.
-Conrad

Fist Full of Family

Someone wrote a letter to my friend saying, "You drive me into a sexual rage". This is how I think she should have responded.

That's funny I feel ALMOST the same way. Except, you are like a brother to me.
Which leads me to quite a quandary because although I have sexual? feelings towards you I can't let them be seen. Because it's illegal. But if you really want to, we can move to Alabama. Where it's legal. And actually is looked up upon. Kind of like tea, in the regal sense. Except it's having sex with your brother. Not drinking tea. Which is good for you. Having sex with your brother isn't really bad for you per se, but it might be bad for our kids. You don't want our kids to have 20 eyes and feet of a duck. Because, living the life of a duck through human eyes is very depressing. I just don't hate babies, and I hope you feel the same way.
Love,
Anonymous
P.S But not love like sex I hope (hope's all we got here).
-Conrad

Welcome, kind sir!

Like we all have a day off, Dad or no, but Dad's need a day off. Or a day on, like a Dad's day on! Except, instead of on you can take it off! Fantastic! Who thought that by being in magic land (or as some like to call it "the internet") you could take a day off! Exciting and magnificent! Don't question if you're not a Dr. Dad, because why would you question a day off? No one would be that absurd to not take a day off. No one. So welcome to a place where all Dad's can take a day off.
-Conrad