24/06/2013 - IT ALL SUDDENLY BECAME APPARENT

It all suddenly became apparent; parenthood in disguise would be the most surprising outing yet. It would be outlandish and crammed full of unlit matches with a few spent matches keeping the matter afloat. It would be like a splash page of entropy, a warm crumpet going off into the stratosphere in order to merge with the small of the universe’s back. This process would be wibbly but I would call it Martyrdom and have done with it. There is theology to every winch wench, a spasmodic interval to every sunny day. Another name is necessary to keep this busy ball of things alive and abuzz and perhaps a little altruistic. There are bodies and then there is rye and ne’er could they hold hands in the crystal ball’s mighty blinking. The eye would sooner go out than spend a fortune on a spent match bedtime freighter. These pipelines, the ones that are currently under your feet, will be rigged to explode by the time this joke ends. If you value your continued preservation, why not try the old soft shoe?

Of course this is coarse. It’d be happenstance any other way and we can’t be having any happenstance dangling over the favoured furniture, can we? Canst thou imagine the caballo grande and its tub of malignant Vaseline? The product placement fees would be staggering not to mention the people who stand in long queues for this sort of shit would be turning cartwheels just to get a chance to spite us in an especially vindictive fashion. We could have a file come down to share in our text evasion, wooden and spiffy and well suctioned. The ball joints would make for some difficult work but the plastic bags would remain just as darling as their gentile companions, the rucksacks. Carrying on the requiem would just mean a looser adaptation to solid food. The writ actor makes his invasion sweet and underplayed. Pigtails are not an option in his line of gigs.

This is the bird. The bird is a plateau for a new state of thinking, a brand new condition of avoiding the correct outlook. Keep typing and typing and tinkering into its beak and all it will say is that the alphabet is a restructured mass of autocracy. It usually says this in tweets and gurgles but you might just get lucky or unlucky and hear the full description as it rumbles and shudders through plastic alloys.

There is in fact a place for us, up Erasmus’ ear canal of all places. It’s nice and snug and provides for a little village that prides itself on its dedication to military stratagems and wolfish knife combat. It’s creepy but you’ll get to know the locals and realise that the locks are actually pretty damn sturdy and nobody can part the shelves anyway. Stay out of the reach of their dockside monsters, these things have claws and tales as tall as those claws. They say LALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALMARTHAKINGSTON and SANTATRAPPEDTHEHIDDENROBOTSWITHHISPATRIARCHALDESIGNANDFANCYFOOTWEAR but pay them no heed.