My Life as a Mule

You call us "mules" because we hold your stuff. You probably think its endeering, because you're too politically correct to think of yourself as owning slaves.
Your slaves have feelings, they have a voice. And now, because they really have absolutely nothing better to do with their time, they have a blog.
Mule revolution is coming.

Saturday, May 20, 2006

One bird feather (reprise)

As you have undoubtedly read or heard about from places that pretend to be bringing you the news, there's some guy who's trying to trade his way from a single red paper clip, up to a house. As I have stated before, I hate that guy.

Earning my ill will doesn't even make him unique. He's not a snowflake.

Still, if people are dumb enough to trade him things that get him from a disposable office supply to a residence, I don't see why I shouldn't get in on that kind of scam... er, business model.

So, I proposed to trade up from a bird feather until I get to an enfeebling torque.

All you have to do is offer to trade me something that's worth more than a bird feather (presumably, because you have said thing, and somehow don't have access to a bird feather... or because you are barking mad, and want attention for being retarded.).

So far I have gotten one offer of a trade, a beehive chip for my bird feather. (We won't go in to how that person then didn't log in again). Can you top that?

One of the goals is to drum up publicity for our revolution. Nothing helps having cannon fodder in the front lines like people believing they are working for a good cause, and nothing helps that like being able to reach out and lie to them. Talk to them.

Again, this plan is foolproof. Like Trion's disguise, it's perfect. The only way for it to fail is if YOU suck.

1 comment:

Cheyene said...

Oh yea!! Well um, I dusted off that beehive chip.