Quote:
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Originally Posted by jwoody
Hey, it fucking worked.
I'm a sea of fucking tranquility.
OK then, I'll fucking explain:
You see, it's like this fucker. A fucking ceiling track hoist system is used transport those less-fortunates who are unable to use their fucking legs for transportation purposes via a fucking track fixed to the fucking ceiling.
Hence the fucking name: Ceiling track.
My beloved client's are from fucking Iraq. In Iraq they fucking love their sliding doors, whereas us fucking Europeans have adopted the hinged door methodology.
Trouble is, you can't have a fucking ceiling track that goes through a sliding door because.....
*jwoody does a fucking acid dance*
You fucking understand?
*jwoody does the fucking power rangers power up stance*
You fucking got it yet?
*jwoody does the Adam & The Ants, Prince Charming dance*
You see what I mean?
*jwoody mimes the act of a person doing fucking crossed arm scratching on upside-down turntables*
..because it's like...
... it's not fucking possible.
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jwoody, I'd like you to stop fooling around and take another look at your friend, Phillip.
...Good. You know, you could've spared yourself all that fucking dancing - I know perfectly well that those two cannot be combined - it's quite fucking obvisouly why. I just wanted to know the purpose of the ceiling track that's fucking all.
Now..who the fuck are Adam & The Ants and Prince Charming?
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I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy.
I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
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