Miss Anthropist

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Comments: Two off the cuff in a befitting hacked-off manner

The Three Theological Virtues are Pissed Off

When the vaguest insults plagued my soul
And you filled me with that empty hole
When unlikely it seemed I could forgive,
You stole my perfect will to live,

When i've got on my knees to a Lord above,
Prayed for burning light, for burning love
Through secrets of you, and all my tears
Seems they both fell on the deafest ears,

When immoral things had dominated
My Hope my Faith were celebrated,
I respond with my soul torn in two-
If I were half a man Love,

I'd be like you.

Conceptual Design
four bedroomed semi-detached house awaits your pleasure.
A three figured payslip, yours, should your desire for 4 rooms outweigh the ones you currently and comfortably occupy.
The pond shimmers with ghost Koi and Chinese lanterns light the way to your sultry evening, and the balmy monthly out-door soirees you so elegantly host.
Neighbours will drop in to congratulate you on the hedge, which you trimmed with much manicured perfection,
You don’t grow your own plants; you don’t have time
And besides,
That’s what gardeners are for after all,
If you didn’t pay them, someone else would.
It’s all relative.
Wallpaper is a luxury; you will soon embrace this fact among others;
Marmalade is bought over jam,
Wicker is an extravagance you will find solace in,
Wellington Boots are lined with padding,
Soap,
Is hand crafted.
It’s all one day away.
Now,
If only you could face embracing the concept
of
Project
Management,
You will fill the world with one more repetitious arsehole
Bound by the laws of constraint and earmarked for promotion above teeming pools of self-creativity.
We don’t call it conceptual design sunshine,

We call it talent.

Comments: I am entering the arena of the arsehole. I know my limits. Money has a price and I won’t be bought by its duplicitous plastic economy.

Give and Take

You put the F in Fucker
Put the Ex in Hex
You took the Pea out of my vegetables
You took the Sex from Sussex,
You took the cap from fitting
You put the P in Rick
You took the O from Counting
You put the Dip in Dipstick,
You took the D from Danger
And replaced it with a noun
You stole the F in Fun and now it’s Un
With no fuck in fun around,
You give the C word meaning
You’re the second T in It
You give Off it’s lead- oh yes indeed
With an S love you’re a Hit...

Comments: It’s all give and take, give a lot receive a little complain loudly when it all goes tits up. Its all comes up roses eventually, you just have to wade through a billion tons of horse shit first.

Project Management: An Idiots Guide.

Read the manual,
An introduction:

Within these pages you will find the most obvious answers to managing your own life, formulated in impossible flow charts and diagrams.
A technical manual if you will, which allows you to be one of the ‘normal people’ in the ever changing world of hierarchical nonsense from which there simply is no escape.
In this manual we will murder art and creativity.
In this manual we will rape you of your own ability
And this manual, you will follow implicitly

Or we will kill you with our robot heads.

' Starting Up '

Step 1: How to boil water
This should take you approximately thirty five seconds, in which time you can put the tea-bag into the cup and add sugar if you will.
Ensure you have the proper implements in order to do this.
A knife will not work.
If you have a knife, assess your need for the utilisation of a spoon. You should only need one spoon as this is a one-spoon-method.
File a Change Request for implement variation.

Step 2: Risk assess the boiling of the water and write a report to explain your actions.
Step 3: open your head with a tin opener. You may flush your brain down the toilet.
You will find instructions of disposal in Appendix D. 1.2 titled:
' I am useless and need direction.'
Submit your End of Stage assessment to the Board for approval.

You will endure three more days of Ministerial Secretariat efficiency before we allow you to progress and earn your pinstripes of briefcase carrying authorisation.
If you do not own a briefcase you will not pass the thrice written duplicated examination before the board of giant anteaters who will suck your Hypothalamus and cerebral cortex dry of snot. You must own a briefcase. We cannot stress this point strongly enough.

And art and creativity should at this point be waxing like the phases of a soulless moon.
You have passed stage one. Stage two: coming soon.

' Stages '

Chapter 2: How not to die in horrible agony in the burning tar pits of hatred and animosity.
We cannot give you any indication as to how not to function without this manual. But unless you read this manual from the front to the back in a sequential and self-disciplined construct, then you will die in horrible agony in the burning tar pits of hatred and animosity.

As we don’t like you.
You are wearing stripy tights Ms Razorblade.
We do not approve.

And so, I give you some advice in the taking up of skills you will not need, the sitting of examinations you do not wish to take, and your performance of joining the human race in the confines of the plebiscites.

The cogs are well oiled with the blood of my fellow creatives
can we live in a world where common sense is deplored and conformity adored?
Do we have no place in the real world of man and machine?

We can dream my friends
We can still ultimately dream.

Comments: others may march happily into the giant mincer of unwitting doom with a statistics package labelled and consumed by the arrogance of industrial conformity. I can not Project Manage. I don't have the right qualities:

A lack of creativity.

Diminishment

Attainable goals and new fortified benchmarks,
Headboards and notches diminish with age,
Detachable retinas and toys without batteries
Once thought of as childish but now, all the rage

My pound shoppers paradise of throw away tampons
And charity finds for the nearest to new
Money tight-fisted, reluctantly bargained
For colostomy bags
from collection point Q

Grey hair speeds up with a force to be reckoned,
Aging quite gracefully now retreats its advance…
A crotchety witch with her snap purse unopened
My genteel diminishment,

Ha!
Some fucking chance.

Comments: My new years/mid life crisis resolution is to piss myself in shops on a regular basis, kick tins of beans over in supermarkets, hit people with my walking stick and swear at police officers. All this to do before I reach 36 is quite a tall order.

Search for Yourself
(Read into Everything)

A man I know told me, that sometimes, he searches through my wesbite; searching for himself within my words
I hate to disappoint anyone who does this, and I can certainly guarantee them this:
You will not find what you are looking for.
I write much
And most of it,
Is not about you.
I will also add an addendum to this statement, we'll call it a confession.....
I have no time for men with idle time

To seek out self-obsession.

Recombinant DNA

Slowly but surely I figured that wayfinding is finding your way among the tribes of the stupid
I have always had a ‘thing’ for men who wear polyester football shirts
Example:
I support Liverpool football team (I don’t, but I’m trying to demonstrate a point)
I am a follower of a ball, I am a follower of a man who kicks a ball to another man, who then kicks the ball.
Etc.
I know I know, I’m a woman we’re not supposed to understand such a ‘complex sport’
However as a woman, and you, if you’re a man reading this, you may have come across something called spontaneous wit and all-out facetiousness
We are women; it’s what we do.
We’ll continue to be clever and put you down
You continue to be stupid and follow a ball
And as an aside
Polyester-
Not a good look

Pick up a book once in a while, you may learn something.

But, I doubt it.

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Subscription Support Diminshment The Three Theological Virtues are Pissed Off Search for Yourself (Read into Everything) -Conceptual Design Give and Take Recombinant DNA Project Management: An Idiots Guide