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| 29 May 2013 07:14 PM |
“rather not, really, I don't think that's what customers will be looking for in our type of products, I think they want a more intuitive experience...”
“Oh, come on, Joe, we've gone through this before, you're the only one sticking with this whole 'cloud transition' theory...”
“The printer is jammed again...”
A didn't like the new workers. They were loud and noisy and quite frankly disrupted his usual pattern of work. Even worse, they occasionally made roaring sounds which were rather off putting. B said he'd recruited them from Africa. You had to keep in mind, A had nothing against lions, or even Africans. However, these particular lions he did not like, not one bit.
A went back to his keyboard, beginning to make a PowerPoint presentation for his next big idea.
“Click click click click click” It spoke to him, caressing his ears and filling his head with nice warm thoughts. Sometimes, the warm thoughts would leave him, and he'd be cold. In those times, he always went about the office, asking if anyone had seen his warm thoughts. They never did, filthy liars all of them. He watched them with his eyes, and saw through the lies, no, he knew better then them.
A absolutely couldn't stand liars, and the liars knew, so they hid from him. Sometimes, he'd stand by the coolwater, looking as people passed by, seeing through their lies. A couldn't do much about the liars, but he could judge them.
As men feed on the blood of nature, the worm of greed grows hungry.
It was always the lions, they were the biggest offenders. A fantisized about the lions, knowing that someday he would finally stand up to them to put them in their place. He knew that lions were all liars, all of them. You just couldn't trust them. A once spoke to B about the lions, but B did nothing but “tsk tsk tsk” at him. He felt right ashamed of himself after those sessions, he did.
But it was then that he began to grow angry. He didn't like it when he was angry, it made him feel like a liar. When he'd get angry, the redness would rise right up to his head, blocking out the warm thoughts. He knew that the redness was warm too, but it was not warm in the same way that the warm thoughts were. They were hot and ruthless, shouting their fear at him. Sometimes, the redness grew so hot that he felt like he had been put in an oven. He felt like he'd been thrown to the center of the sun, each and every single atom which made up his body being shattered and separated, whizzing at speeds unfathomable to him as his brain melted before its constant fury, its fury at the world around it, its fury at the impudence of this little blue and green speck which taunted him every day, shouting hurtful words, words which did nothing but make him grow bigger and bigger, hotter and angrier until eventually he grew so large that he collapsed, while all the while the atomic makeup of A was being completely rebuilt and made into complex atoms which he did not even recognize... and... suddenly, A was holding a dagger, cutting through the skin on his arm.
A had always been a very calm man, and spent his life trying to control the redness and feel warm again. The warm thoughts were nice, the cool thoughts were not. The cool thoughts sometimes chilled him right to the bone, making him feel like another speck of dust drifting through the infinity that is space.
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Quasar99
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| Joined: 21 Nov 2009 |
| Total Posts: 9328 |
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| 30 May 2013 06:23 PM |
you're lazy if you cant read this
would you like fries with that. |
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| 13 Jun 2013 11:17 PM |
http://foolasophical.deviantart.com/art/Butts-376944910
http://vocaroo.com/i/s0gK45LbbkNm |
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| 13 Jun 2013 11:22 PM |
| I'm scared to look at the 2nd link. |
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