Sometimes there’s nothing to say. Silence doesn’t bother me and I don’t feel the need to fill space with idle chit chat, talk about the weather or fiddle with an inane smart phone. I’m more than happy to ponder questions without answers while I study the sipping stratigraphy on a pint glass.
However, nothing says December in and for pilderwasser better than this picture.
Six years in a row.
and a year or so before that in a zine called kickstand it was written like this:
When you don’t know what you’re talking about
A. make something up
B. talk louder
C. crack a joke
D. shut the fuck up
(the correct answer is D)
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