A plot for a Script

A solicitation to an intimate encounter with a preternaturally attractive (or so her picture indicated) woman of MORE than favorably preserved through maturity appearance reached me last night. I am of identical class and in addition I am brilliant though suffering now from some age associated narcolepsy. What to do? I agreed for a meeting at the nearest Panera bread, a dobbin location, to exchange currencies, but for SOME reason was taken to the Jessup location instead. Anger. And as it developed the laptop I brought with me was dead. I even tried asking the other customers at the bakery cafe for help with a power supply but couldn’t charity any help. I stuck around, out of the house for good, and did a bit of work in public, mostly presenting institutional wisdom of the engineering calling but also noting a pre-historic use of steel production clearly alluded to in Genesis 11:4-5. Here a discerning reader can find an allusion to the manufacture of soapstone molds for the casting of tempered steel, only the tempering of the steel is going on within the cast itself.

I’ll pursue the pricking of this serendipity further. Germany has a fetish for it’s steel production that MIGHT move it to attempt the obfuscation or outright felonious prior acredidation for this technique by impuning the creditials of the discovering party OR attemption to gain gaurdian status of said individual if he or she were under state of care of some individual or duly ordained panal (We Are Going to Court over this, I have more than demonstrated standing to do it now) AND IF I FIND OUT MY WIFE HAS BEEN DECLARED INCOMPETENT TO MARRY BY SOME SIMILAR LEGAL PRINCIPAL WE ARE GOING TO EXPLORE SOME DEFINITIONS OF WARFARE TOGETHER. But getting back to the original thesis of the piece…I have observed only the hatefully indifferent damage a trust fund tailie can inflict on a good organization and in engineering spheres that generally involves a good company enslaved to the profiteering of an ignorant board representing STOCK holders who view uninterrupted prosperity as theirs by observation. Staff led revolts overthrowing these quidlings can and continue to occur, so my role as indicator and catalyst of said revolutions is NOT absolutely necessary, though I like it…I can envision, however, a role for an indicator and catalyst of revolution WITHOUT recourse to an informed and empowered merchant class who uses what weapons she has to inform the nobility in it’s decrepency and catalyze the revolution that way but only at DECIDEDLY more risk to herself, or perhaps not (heh, heh, heh).

Said revolutionary MUST of necessity maintain a cover of absolute overtitted simplititty finally and until the twisted machievellian, who is ONLY doing his job and is to be untouched… Lures her to weeping disclosure. When Ms. Lord Descended into the old Daily Grind in what was then Fell’s Point and eye struck herself with me she turned right around and damn near made a revelatory bolt for the exit I think it was… Sorry Tracy, I really only wanted the coffee, conversation, and a bit of surreptuous sex at the time, and I had damn near outgrown the place by then anyway. Oh God. Continuing… I get my kicks routing i386 and always have, maybe someday you’ll all understand, Ah Shit, the ones that will already do, and we don’t really get much of anything else about selves then or now or ever, Ah Shit. I’m guessing it’s always BEEN this way, right or certainly or SUMthing, go ahead, something brutal, I mean I’m here, right? That much, well, wait…Oh God, I’m being waved off.

So after Cry Baby Traci Lord is to suffer death by a thousand cut’s and she can’t say a word without imperiling the executo complet. Can I? Yeah, but I won’t be popular, but hell, my people like to point box and OTHERWISE. So Tracy, wanna cross licence this site? Pipe up. Watch closely;