Let’s get something straightened and shoved upright. There has to be a balance between one’s sensuality and cerebral faculties. If out of whack, it results in Slavoj Zizek, the twitching linguist whose philosophical endeavours focus on microscopic readings of everything through the Marxist keyhole, or otherwise their average celebrity whose name I will never know, the plush looking bag or a beard on legs with frenetic people running around them.After all, celebrities are just the select appropriations of mediocre people being celebrated.

My playful nature should classify me as a cerebrity.

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