Help
a guy out by hermetically sealing the chair focus group member. This is not the
guy that you are helping so rest assured but please don’t actually rest because
that would be contrary to the task required of you at hand. The only way to
wind the day is to tape something on a VCR and act like it’s live until the
point where your eyes become pebbles of blackened source magic as produced by
the burnt-up stand-up comic at the end of chides of the heavens. That last
thing is a movie but we can’t seem to find it anywhere because that would prove
invaluable to our personal war effort. The raging of battles requires more
bloodthirsty hiccupping and incitation of a conjurer’s respectability. This
shirt-wearing contest is really tiring him out, right from the logic to the
tips of his ears.
As per usual the printer is spitting scanner bits right
into our faces as we work through the night in our desperate attempts at
reclaiming a sense of dignity through prosaic chitter-chatter, something which
none of us expect to work and yet everyone climbs upon every chance that they
get. I’ll see the ambulance in my dreams and hold the cadaver there in polite
resurgence of the fact that the rumour is but a smaller bit of the very same
dream that is currently swelling the key lobes of my submariner brain. The
tools of the trade are yet to assign responsibility to disposal methods so keep
out of the way of making sure for, as we all know, the totems and map imagery
can be inspiring to all the wrong kinds of people rather than the slick-hided.
The dog is on the verge of papier-mâché and really wants
to tell us about it with hoity-toity flourish and breath mints that go on for
absolute ages and yet no longer than it takes a lover to sigh at the other’s
visage. The showers will come straight out with it and call up the national
guard in the hopes that it’ll make you sweet on them and see how sweet and
edible their flesh can be to the living. It isn’t gainful, it’s painful.
Erasure happens so often that the paint tins can be fashioned into elaborate
lie detectors via the simple act of faltering over stumbled deliberations that
would take years to recompense in any case.
As one woman to another, please benefit from my
knowledge: pornography is a quaint pastime. There’s nothing inherently
destructive about it but it does degrade in places and won’t be biodegradable
until the day they can illustrate exactly why men need it to keep their brains
sharp like tachyons fresh from the grindstone and buffer. Eat, drink and be mal
but please don’t give into Brimley fun just yet, not while the ruddy still live
without axes in their hearts and a song where their special lobes used to be.
THE BATTLE GOES
ON…AND ON…AND OUTSIDE OF PUBLIC KNOWLEDGE… AGAIN.
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