Why am I here? I dont know. Cant see the point of it all sometimes. Perhaps this may be useful. Close your eyes, take a slow deep breath, and think of the first weird thing that comes to your mind. Earlier tonight, I was watching Queen at Live Aid and I thought: Man, I wonder who had to clean up after that? Lets go with that. Now think of a name. Johnny Bubblegum. Well, now we have a name and a premise. Put em together and you get... the story of Johnny Bubblegum. Think of the one you love and start to type: Johnny Bubblegum spent that night at Wembley in 1985 backstage, meeting musicians, and gathering autographs, everyone from Paul Weller to Brian May, all the while avoiding his official duty -- rubbish collector, Turnstiles A, Block 524. He was successful. For a time. But low wage earners all live in the reaper-like shadow of their supervisor and Johnny Bubblegum walked in the gloom cast by the cruelest of all: Idaho Joe. Their battle was to pass into legend, two janitors each bearing a message for the other, a showdown in Britains most storied venue, a history waiting to be written... heh heh, well, you get the idea. Its silly but thats an odd glimpse, a peek through the keyhole at the pretty girl getting undressed, that is creativity. And Im not even that good. Imagine asking Bob Dylan about it, or... Julius Cesar? Whats it like to be a genius? Okay for now. No time for losers, cause we are the champions...
Posted on: Wed, 27 Aug 2014 11:48:37 +0000
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