[The door crashed open, the light poured in, the unexpecting turned heads, the feeling was mixed…but everywhere there was feeling]

Oi oi me ol’ muckers, greetings from scouseland

First, I’d like to invite you, random reader dood, in joining me in putting a collective sphincter splitting foot in the ass of the monkeys who organise the campus internet. I hold them personally responsible for my lack of internet presence. I suspect these shenanigans will continue until they can find their ass end – walk it off foos.

(to the old skool who give a shit, yes, being back at uni is epic, as expected, such close quarters to high quantities of weapons grade fitties has led to fox in a henhouse syndrome – debauchery and assignment deadlines are the tough love I need.)

Focusing presence now, a pertinent thing to remember, from an NLP perspective, about those Speed Seduction rules (written I might add while Mystery was still ruminating in his bedroom) is that the rules themselves are meaningless, it’s the conditions they presuppose that are empowering.

So yeah, fuck the rules, make your own by being at cause and seeing what rules come out of that space…

… then slap a label like, “Speed Seducer Rules” on em and sell em to the guys still at effect. Some guys will get lost in the analysis of the footprints and others will find out where they go…

And on that bombshell, I’m off back to the castle to plunder next door for tea and conversation.

Till my next randomly designated post.

Play on

Sync