we don’t like days and are at odds with nights

that they shouldn’t have gone out today and just stay put, sponge complained, nothing would have happened, that he knew full well that nothing is happening now, but that this nothingness was a different kind, emptier, bleaker, than the nothingness they normally faced with, the nothingness so familiar, so comforting, the old, the nothing-new nothingness. not the as-good-as-it-gets nothingness. that, he added, nothing was the absence of anything at all, although, colloquially, the concept was often used to indicate (or describe) the lack of anything relevant or significant, or to describe a particularly unimportant thing or event. or object, subject, as herr brekst would say. it is contrasted with something and everything.
but, sponge said, this might be a poor description.

rather than a dialogue we’ll have two monologues

no we can’t. really not? no. not a chance? no. you’ve heard it. nothing we can do. nothing to do with us.
the neighbour had left the house this morning. never arrived where he was expected. never returned to where no-one was waiting. never called. we couldn’t tell what happened.
so we’ll never hear the end of it, said sponge. no, we won’t.
the man had sat down of a metal chair outside the cafe. he waited. nobody came to take his orders, nobody joined his wait. the cafe was closed. the owner had declared himself bankrupt. why where the chairs still outside? why did everything look as if the cafe was still open for business? the man asked none of these questions, instead, after a brief glance at his watch, he got up and left and a while later somebody came to carried table and chairs inside as the owner had hung himself in the kitchen. no need to keep up appearances. the man walked for an hour or so until he came to a bridge.
symbolic that. indeed. will he cross it, said breadroll.
the man stood there and waited, crossing a bridge, he thought, very symbolic, who knows what’s to happen, let’s not get excited. he stood without moving and was forgotten about. there was no bridge anyway, but a river or a canal, or a fence. dust caught in his trouser legs and they blended in with the pavement. leaves gathered around him and he saw autumn turning to winter. people ceased running into him and paths showed around a heap of leaves.
that stuff happens only in poems, novels and films. true enough, said sponge. although i read a story once where a man had turned into a slug or a spider or something. some kind of creature. wasn’t a novel.
the man turned left. he walked until he came to a small square, lined with caf├ęs and shops, where waiters were serving people and a grocer spoke to a an old lady. i shall be off, the lady said, and left. she went to the butcher’s for pork chops and the butcher asked whether she could be interested in some lamb. no right now, she said, but later, perhaps. we’ll see how it goes. some customers showed more interest. the old lady left. she didn’t come back. she didn’t make pork chop. she fell on the way home. nothing that could be done. it was a beautiful funeral. most people said so. the priest said some improvements could have been made, some seemingly necessary changes in burial practices, long overdue but not yet implemented. not fully, a working group is currently reviewing the progress. said the priest, and he should know. after all he’s chairing the panel tasked with the supervision of the working group
so, no trace of the neighbour anymore. no. that’s a pity. it’s a shame.
we really can’t do anything. keep trying so.
i think it was a story, said sponge.

i told you we have to wait

another repetitive day, breadroll asked.
no, said sponge, it must be a trick. you asked for it, said breadroll. i think we had exactly the same episode before, he said. feck off. piss off. swear words. dirty language. lead your outlets to propel you further. good british ways of telling some-one to bugger off.
let your droplets propel you further, very elegant.
outlets, they said, it’s outlets.
i know, code for droplets. trust me.
they waited.

a queue is all we need for good order

look at that, said sponge, they are all waiting. peacefully in peace. not a bother.
a queue, said breadroll.
i can see that, said sponge.
proper order, said breadroll.

the where we were

one day we should go to russia, said sponge, the wide there and the long, plains and landscape. we could do a lot of waiting there. until someone comes and boots us away. we move on a bit, report to somebody. so we get to wait more. the wait is the goal.

we could do with some music

we could do with some music. we really could, says sponge. people are entertained, have a life. go into property. they go out again. going into properties the lot.
we are doing that, said breadroll.
not enough, said sponge, gong into property is something of a process, you don’t just walk in. there’s a strong spiritual side to it. some people just rush in and out of a property.
we could sell that idea, said breadroll. we could do with some music for a start.

we and i have a particular view of the world in common

are we second to none you think, said sponge.
no, said breadroll, not we, third maybe or fourth.
even fifth, said sponge. breadroll approved. probably sixth, he said.
that’s not too bad, said sponge.

let’s terminate shall we

utra-violent, said blokk, smash and maim and have moloko.
pheww, said breadroll, that’s as blunt as blitzkrieg and we would try that either.
but do we ever get to kill, blokk wondered, when sponge sparked hope by being very negative again. capital-very. maybe get to take him out, blokk continued wondering.
moods change quickly and soon blokk considered dogs scum of creation for their fowlings.

very funny for that matter but i don’t think we should laugh at all

and on we went walking. on the trail less travelled. around corners where others never would think to take a snoop around. they walked, now view view from top. the three walking. heading towards another corner.
if anyone wants o take a leak, said sponge, it would be a chance now.
i took a leek from a garden back there but it was rather raw, said block of wood.
if you think british is about funny puns, said sponge, it is not. it is about puns, that’s it — (he gave the final ‘t’ a really sharp finish to make a point).

we try angst again fuck sake

will angst, said sponge, be an archetype for us, on our travel to a corner shop and the drivel that comes with it?
a descriptive term, but not in itself a category; angst should be considered a subgenre of other categories (narrative, character study, episodic, etc.). a shop may be filled with angst-ridden employees and patrons, but there’s usually a story behind it.

what would we say to make it not look like a

good, said sponge. pfffnn. — don’t you miss those sounds?
i’m fed up with things, too, said breadroll. i could have been you know. —— literary glamour and all. a recognisable figure in the books. ———

soon we are going to be talking about tomorrow soon

soon. soon soon. repeat. soon.
hours of endless fun said sponge. but soon soon. what will happen? a solution for ravaged offally and its endangered locals. does anyone know where offally is? soon. and so li’eve bloom. where the toilet is. meanwhile we keep looking for a shop. with stuff in it. for sale.
daft little writ, said breadroll. no-one will notice.
a morning dawned, no flavoured coffee around, no office furiture. the simple life at corners. short sentences. tomorrow things’ll better.

so so we just ask

q: and how did this soldiers come about?
a: that to tell would indeed require an extraordinary rendition on our part — and we’re not budgeted for that right now.
answer to give the sarge would be required who unfortunately was busy supervising the occasional rape and pillage. this is the plight with fullscale engagements, they are fast-paced and implemented decisions as they come up, however it should be soon over as this corner is rather unevenful, unlikely they will find anything massively destructive here.
fnnn. add a quote:-

the art of war, then, is governed by five constant
factors, all to factored in and to be taken into account
in one’s deliberations —and then to squeeze a fuck in between the factoring by ways other than mispelling but we get carried away now—,
when seeking to determine the
conditions obtaining in the field between harvests and serious battles.
these are plain bold: (1) the moral law and the immoral one and the other one; (2) heaven and hell and mary and joseph; (3) planet earth;
(4) the commander as such; (5) policies and compliance.

rarely we get such impressive quotes.

day to night we go

what a day they will say when it will end tonight, said sponge, but there is some time until then.

what else did we lose on the way

we pissed the viewers off didn’t we?
nnnnn-o, said sponge. he had put thought gehind his reply. i am not saying this to merely to calm you down, breadroll, if you don’y mind me calling you that —–
i would not wish people to know, said breadroll, ralf or maybe rolf is far less a commitment, normal is hormonal as they say.
and what now, said breadroll, ready to come up with the same question again.

quota quotae we will need tits after all

to say tits surely is not as bad as showing them, said breadroll. i have none myself but if i had i would not have time for people objecting me from showing them. that’s me. i love to butter spread on me, too. that’s me, should do.
we could gp on about spreads without being overly offensive. we’ve got to show something, said sponge, and the plan to turn the office into a porn studio is an appealing one.
a plan, said block of wood. tea anyone.
we cannot turn anything into some other thing without approval, said breadroll.
and plan, said sponge, right. that episode did not work out as expected. i thought there would be more approar about the porn quote.

and around as in round and around we go

if i say now, said sponge, that’s it for the year it’ll be seen as one of those jokes one used to crack as a child: i shall not wash again for the yearshall not shave again for the year or mother not wanting to cook again in this year, jokes ill-perceived just one or two days later, but that’ll be it, it for the year and no joke.

we get a lot of distraction here

fnnnnf.
q: would you say you can focused better in a world where stimuli are rather rare?
a new sound, said breadroll, a subtle variation. what was it i wanted to say?
no idea, said block of wood.
something about the poetry, said breadroll, of sound but nothing i assume i haven’t said before.
this consistence is what i love, said block of wood.

why shall we bother with a title

on second thought, said brekst and grew silent again.
he wanted to tell about his depression which was not accompanied by insomnia and feeding frenzy but he did not. a slim and slender man in his best years, well rested and depressed. it goes without saying that he could not continue the episode for the moment.

we continually interchange our views

the sun shone, for i like the word shone. not more to report. on with the show.
q: we know about the scenery, alright. we are well sufficiently informed about our opinion on our viewers’ lack of ignorance. however, we woould like to know more about what you’ve said to the president of the united mates when you met last month.
a: we never met after all.
q: great to hear; and what didn’t he say?
—— breadroll served a steaming pot of tea. too late, for almost everyone had gone at this point.

we grow to miss inflation

so, said breadroll, it’s me again; but as i say there is always a second line. ————– he waits. well i suppose, he says, there’s no point me hanging around. the first line is done, apologies went it wasn’t funny and that’s me done. ———– he waits. no point really, he says.

we are content so far

actually, said sponge and appeared stern, actually the waiting bit is not scheduled and we are actually not waiting for anything at all; officially — a semicolon is a way to avoid a new sentence.

we shall ask why and stuff

q: that was an unnecessary display of of violence in the morning fnnn zwooook if i may say so hotokk mooo uill.
i enjoyed the publicity, said block of wood, even though i personally detest violence. —— brutality yes, violence no. it is that simple if we all work together.
a: i advice you not to ask for music again, song jingle anything.
q: the aversion towardssss music, is that a new trait fnnnn? the presenter has a little white drop of spittle on his upper lips when he speaks.

should we be curious what they come up with

says sponge: it won’t be much today. nothing has been scheduled and a lot has been forgotten abput; it all should have been planned and therefore there is not much today.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.