CBD BCP? I’d rather PCP.
- Posted by admin on March 31st, 2008 filed in Sleep Recordings
Well..
Things have somewhat lulled again. I believe I have found my cure for sleep talking.
I’ve mentioned before that interaction, particularly in corporateland appears to have negative effects on my somniloquyian abilities. Recently, I was obligated to take another trip into the soul sucking vortex that is my city centre, a practice that regularly confounds me. I can never quite escape the sense of peripheral panic, as if I am trapped in a stark, gray box with a herd of well dressed, mindless, robotic Jehovah’s witnesses. No need to recruit, overexposure is tantamount to infection. Everywhere I look I see (feigned) acceptance - as if whittling away your days as a proud and ardent member of the Digital Marketing Team, located in Sector 7, Cubicle Quadrant 3 could be comprehensively excused by a terribly fulfilling nightly television regime.
There must be more to it than that, right?
This is the type of crap that you are obliged to accept as “wordly”?
With this in mind I have formulated theory. I call it “The Blowjobbian Compensation Principle“. Blowjobbian being a suitably effective metaphor for the concept of ultimate indulgence.
The theory goes a little something like this: To exist in the aforementioned reality, you must be experiencing regular tangible benefits. An alternative paycheck of debauchery for soulless services rendered. “Saints in light, heathens at night” if you like. This is Satan at work in the 21st century. Forget direct corruption, just suck the life out of them Monday to Friday such that their spare time will be spent “blowing off steam” in a typically hedonistic and (consequently) blasphemous manner.
Case in point, watch many of the diseased stream back into the CBD at night, intent on drugging themselves through the weekend so that Monday at the office can be endured, recovering, carrying out medial tasks, whilst secretly perusing the rather over exaggerated substance-induced, flowery “false memory”.
I could go on for endless hours with examples of BCP666 in action but I feel sure that having been exposed to BCP666 you are now able yourself to isolate and question whether blowjobbian compensation is for you. Debauchery can be yours at a far cheaper price.
I consider myself to be a defect of sorts, it disturbs me that integration into “the norm” reduces my ability to talk quality gibberish when asleep. As far as priorities go, I rank the ability to dispatch excellent unconscious nonsense right up there with oxygen. What a drag to have to navigate through several days of recovery. Once upon a time, I attempted to work in my local CBD. By day two, I felt sure that the virtually intravenous caffeine wave I was riding was destined to lead me into psychosis. Furthermore, I concluded that the very real impulse to crash my car into a capably homicidal pole was perhaps a not too subtle indication that I should swiftly admit defeat and live to fight another day. I quit.
This recording is not as impressive. I do apologise for venturing into the CBD - clearly as the days have progressed the episodes and audibility have increased but we are still a few days off acceptable derangement.
Still.. remarking on someone farting narrow is extremely insightful. In the final piece, it sounds as if I am enthusing people to hide. Love the staccato urgency of my delivery. “Get under there!” “quick!” (Some dynamics/authoritative tone lost in making sure that your speakers are safe from my drastic volume change when I begin to bark orders).
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