what choo gonna do now?

Exceptional mediocrity? Or mediocre exceptionality? Which is it gonna be, bitch? Happily ever after and then the big toilet in the sky, flushing it all away? Or flush now, flush later? And like magic the phone rings, a sleepy lover, looking for love, reminding me of love. And reminding me that, perhaps, it only seems to be a choice about a boat when I'm drunk. The rest of the time it's a choice about keeping my ass in my chair and getting some work done - hardly as dramatic as one might want it to be. C'est la vie. "Robot", coined by Karel Capek from the Russian work "rabota" - work. Ass in chair. Zen. Robot. Rabota. Drinking on a school night - no need to tell the chill'ens that tomorrow in class. Laterz.