every year sa pays a stupidity tax of about one percent of its gross earnings which considering its gross is less than what some pay for a manipedi or a pop across the pond this tax though seemingly inevitable hurts asbadas literature though not as long and deep and wide for things fiscal to a doo appear as veggie scraps gunk for compost but literature the earth itself and no less wormy
two weeks ago i paid this years tax always a surprise im still stupid let doo count the daos and then like yrup now in the geopolitic swamp what to doo we can forget it happened but we cant we can spend more in fatalistic recklessness this appeals to excesssa we dont budget thats for the numbernati but patabudgetings legit patageting ratherer a kinda foggy intuitive balancing on unseen scales a kinda poofit and loss fatement making sense to those of flushy doolets not any puritanica or penalty no judgement neither loathing criticalities autostupiditys part of life lets as the emoji vipassananati say embrace it
doo automatically adjusts they dont eat out parkette baguettes et almonds surreptitious apricots et pommes seeds et carottes by some historicized river were seen perhaps unlikely munching oat crackers in fantastical graveyards they find places we can plunk for free sans military glances no cosmic airport purchases doo drinks the booze in little hideaways far from commerce and tables and in these innumerable tiny acts its not as if any yrohs saved compensate on the grotesque balance teats but as if stupidity leads us well & further into the grimpilling arts ensuring tourist simulations are kept to a minimum and we feel well what we most ostensibly truly are toxicized leaves in absinthe streams cannabis buds in an unnamed cyclone unopened doors in dreams
cuming soon
this is your captain speaking
