Thursday 14 March 2013

14/03/2013 - DILAPIDATED DIAL-UP


                Dilapidated dial-up and don't dunno over the fridge. This man is green, his wife is yellow and all his children belong to somebody else who is neither. I heard that his name was Max but he rolled up into a carpet so that might have deepened into something more violet.  Laxative serendipity is a great segue for the French Neapolitan and his faltering bakery. Screw that up if you so wish to dare properly this time.  Birds are mocking my better judgement and ripping the underpants straight off of my scanner and all his punishment junkie friends. There are portals to Hell and Hades and the Japanese drawer bridge that rises out of the earthquake. Dukes of Retardation shall sally forth and do wrongs all over the obsolete handiwork that is the lost tapestry. They say it was made with apes but I have suspicions that it was actually just naked men with too many prickles.

            So I ran and I ran and I jived as I ran and I ran forth like the rain and I ran ahead like the sundry and I ran nowhere like it was elsewhere and I left this planet for another that looks exactly like the moon without all the whiteness. I shall find a wife on this planet and make sure she never wears hair for as long as she maintains tiaras for work. I sink into great depressions thinking about the glimmering and the burning teeth. It's slightly arthritic if you think about it too much like they do. I'm sure I'll find the proper indentation somewhere along the edges, they can't hold that back from my retribution. They asked me about my retribution and I told them it was your pleasure only turned upstairs into paper roses that set fire to themselves. They didn't understand.

            I'll wind down at the heart of the story and drop myself from its uppermost lip. Nothing can force me to fly at this altitude not with the way I forgive myself past transgressions and refute the patio. It's an experiment gone awry. It's my wife. It's a horrid thought on a lonely groin. It's the splendour of my majestic groping. I give the game away too soon and now you're my son. That's how it works in this part of the world, fragmentation only leads to more deportment. You didn't bring your card so tough and jump. I'll wear the hairnet and get you out later provided you keep those thumbs nice and high. They need calling away before the boring raft crushes with my fairing hat.

             Erasmus found out about Agnes and now they are in love. It's a delight for those without eyes and I shall say no more. It hurts to think about the gross glossy magazine sex they have but I suppose it happens regardless of whether I steal the sheets or not. The mattress might change things but that's too much of a challenge. Let's leave them be. Let's leave them to the Dukes.

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