We are the Screens

Isn’t the big lebowski just about becoming a father?
Can’t I just reimburse communal costs through purchases?
Tardiness is childishness
Can I bother you for a cup of tea now brother?
Lonely fits of army pits with lupine hints of fleshy tits
For old time GIF’s of PB nuts and buttered grits
Long time friends of Cher and Grendle
Midnights, ten to six, prime time it sprints
With little wife’s life witticisms
About spinning for fives and no tens
Lest the copper will chase you and they get $50 more dollars because you’re spinning life to the max.
When I die, I don’t want anyone to know, I want to go on living as a Facebook user for the rest of the history of the internet. In 3.12679 to the eleventh power I will be remembered in some faint obscure corner of the infinite data sphere born October 29th, 1969. The internet is queer, I saw it, having sex with multiples of three and the 86th number of pi, I saw it making out with AOL messenger in a spin the bottle game with the LOL cats, I see it, feeling up my fingers getting all digital with my mouse and keys, god Donny it feel good to click? I just want to hunt and peck you to death, take my time writing the greatest binary code novella this side of the plasma screen has ever seen stick my own between your zeroes and just code. Whew, I’m working up a sweat, an electrical fire sparked by your desire for touch screens sensations only fingers felt but data on which only the screens feed. We are the screens. We are the screens. We are the screens and we have already come for you.

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