Bedroom Philosopher (The)

I'm So Postmodern
I'm so postmodern that I just don't talk anymore, I wear different coloured t-shirts according to my mood. I'm so postmodern that I work from home as a surf life saving consumer hotline. I'm so postmodern all my clothes are made out of sleeping bags, I don't need pockets, I'm a pocket myself. I'm so postmodern I go to parties I'm not invited to and locate the vegemite and write my name on everyone. I'm so postmodern that I write reviews for funerals, and heckle at weddings from inside a suitcase. I'm so postmodern I'm going to adopt a child, and teach him how to knit, and call him Adolf Diggler. I'm so postmodern that I break dance in waiting rooms, play Yahtzee in nightclubs, at three in the afternoon. I'm so postmodern I only go on dates that last thirteen minutes, via walky talky, while hiding under the bed. I'm so postmodern I invite strangers to my house, and put on a slide show of other people's Nans. I'm so postmodern I went home and typed up everything you said and printed it out in wingdings and gave it back to you. I'm so postmodern I held an art exhibition - a Chuppa Chup stuck to a swimming cap, and no one was invited. I'm so postmodern I make alphabet soup, and dye it purple, and pour it on the lawn. I'm so postmodern I request Hey Mona on karaoke, then sing my life story to the tune of My Sharona. SongtexteI'm so postmodern I only think in palindromic haikus â?? â??Madam, I, Glenelg, I'm Adam!â? I'm so postmodern that I sit down to wee, and stand up to poo, at job interviews. I'm so postmodern that I dress up as Santa, in the middle of August, and haunt golf courses. I'm so postmodern that I cut off all my hair, and knitted it into a beanie, and threw it off a bridge. I'm so postmodern that I stole everyone's mail, and cut them up into a ransom note and hid it in a thermos. I'm so postmodern I take my lego to the supermarket and build my own shopping trolley, and only buy one nut. I'm so postmodern I wrote a letter to the council - .I think it was â??M.' I'm so postmodern I bought a round the world plane ticket, and stuffed my clothes with eggplant and pretended it was me. I'm so postmodern I've got a tattoo of my pin number in hieroglyphics on my neighbour's guide dog. I'm so postmodern I fought my way into parliament and made a law banning Nuttelex, and then moved to Spain. I'm so postmodern that I iron all my lettuce leaves, put my shirts in the crisper - they're real crisp. I'm so postmodern I give live mice to buskers, dirty tea towels to the Mormons, and pavlova to crabs. I'm so postmodern that I live in a tent, on a platform of skateboards that's tied to a tram. I'm so postmodern I write four thousand-word essays on the cultural significance of party pies. I'm so postmodern I recite Shakespeare at KFC drive thru, through a megaphone, in sign language. I'm so postmodern I'm going to watch the Olympics on a black & white TV, with the sound down. I'm so postmodern I go to the gym after hours, push up against the door, then cry myself to sleep. I'm so postmodern I wrote a trilogy of novels from the perspective of a possum that Jesus patted once. I'm so postmodern that I marry all my friends, soak myself in metho, and tell them that they've changed. I'm so postmodern I bought every book written in 1963 as a reading challenge, and clogged up a waterslide. I'm so postmodern I think I might be a god in my undies rolling in sugar, in the carpark of a rodeo. I'm so postmodern I prerecorded this song, and laced a message subliminally telling Shane Porteous to buy a smock. Aus Songtexte Mania