can'v wurmz

The bizarre pattern emerges, as the same dullards I've encountered my whole life, still manage to turn a fairly simple, operational system, into a vile can of stinking worms, a pandora's box of predetermined failure. It's as if, in the age of a "sit back and watch," our car crash society, go about its inevitable self-destruction, we've bred into our inhabitants the meagerest of abilities to stem the idle destruction of efficacy.

When the wholesale meltdown of all that makes us a collective entity, finally occurs, it's those who'll die when Tesco's stocks run out and there's no more dog-shit left to eat, that'll be mourned as the true rejects of our way of life. Baton the hatches, and prepare yourself for the nonsensical play acting of any sort of meaningful attitude, in the meantime.