titivation; the tell tale toffwatch tally chart. Horble
The tally chart of a toffwatch isn’t something you see everyday, but I’d like to take this opportunity to help let you become acquainted with each other.
Toffwatch’s tally charts are long and tall. They’re often presented as hyperbolic nerve capacities, specifically of a racist sort. Their racism isn’t their only controversial social viewpoint, they’re all for military sole scratching, an underground method of national government control, scribed on your shoes.
You might have already judged the tally charts of Toffwatchs, but, don’t be so eager to make a decision about their being. They’re being just like you, they’ve every right to, and every right to hold an opinion about anything. Judging is natural and instinctive, it helps us be safe and make decisions but too often these judgements are influenced incorrectly, or are based on unreasonable characteristics. As the great creator (Brian “Let’s kick some ass” Nairb) once said, “Judge me, I am yours to be judged. But hasten your opinions to concur with my conviction, not upon my mere vizzard of physical imagery.” At the time i seem to remember him staying in a constant state of self awareness and pleasant scrutiny, his fascination with what was around him was immense. He told me he saw himself for what he was, an entity sharing with other entities. “Sometimes it’s nice to contemplate existence as nothing more than existence.”
If i can set the scene, i was in a crowded bar somewhere in Rio de Janeiro when i first met Brian Nairb. His demeaner was very appealing to me. We went outside where we conversed about winter sports. He told me he enjoyed watching Jamaican men performing on ice, particularly when televised. I asked him if he’d ever considered taking up a winter sport or jamaican citizenship. It obviously distressed him. It was then he told me of the fundamental noble truth. He said the Jamaican men on ice were just entities living and sharing the same resources as everything else, just as we were. Their title of Jamaican men on ice was nothing more than an informative jargonic description, expressed in an understandable verbal subject matter relating to their being at that moment in time.
That night i boarded a flight to Dubai, puzzled by the world and what Brian Nairb had told me. The hostess was serving crisps and tea, or tea and crisps as the airline described it. It was at that point, over a bag of salt and vinegar, that complete clarity came across my body and mind. I understood what Brian was talking about, there is nothing more to life than what you see. To desire such outrageous, unattainable goals is both unnatural and inhibiting. Sure Brian Nairb wasn’t perfect, but those crisps were great. There’s something about total consciousness and global-social understanding that makes crisps really go down well.
The next day broke (and was later fixed) and I was asked to write my biography by a small cuban boy. His hair reminded me of the 1960s and Beatle-mania, which re-assured me. He was a throwback to the brylcream sideparting, teeth braces, ill fitting shoes and coca-cola branding which dominated the post war western world. I wrote my biography in two minutes, nobody bought it but that’s not the point. I didn’t write my biography to sell it, I wrote it for the Cuban boy with the Beatles hair cut, like we all should.
