bink

Genius! Lies not in the soul. The sole perhaps, its walking never to quite be finished the calories lost only brought back by the catastrophic poutine lashing in gastrointestinal spite raucously devouring the filet with little regard to its mercury content. Sickness it is. When 500 years old you be, look as good you will not. Barry Edwards and Dave Govers carry fruit. Unless Father Charles goes down and ends battle.


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Apocalypse Cow, Star Goat
These are persons not yet met
Do not Fret
it's only cuz I've not made them yet.

Too bad someone else has.


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This order had no invoice attached so I smashed it against the body of a varsity cheerleader impeding her algebraic way of generating mish mash. This Mysterious Mystical Mash Man had the uncanny ability to make beer out of himself and DANCE the unruly (not ruly mind you) night away. How many toes do I have? Good question. . How many toes do you have Dr. Carp Salmon, P.H.D.? Not many more than I can imagine in a whole episode of Three's Company, no doubt. Could the mind of the teacher have become so similar to that of the student to make the cavorting become fractal, easily following the tiny imperfections in my hand? Those dinosaurs were scary. Two times even. I once found distraction in a tree. I gave it away. Turns out I already had that one. A booby trap may have been set. The reassured nature of the bobcat of gold for waiting may be deceived in the year of the boomerang. The bushes could kill us all but if I eat the crusts on my bread the hair on my chest could quite simply be its undoing. Are you going to take advantage of our COAT CHECK SERVICE?

BLEEP!


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limpet of the valley!
for who, you ask?

for you,



for you.


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The bicycle leapt soaring, mind numbingly heart wrenching in its terror. Its speed that of a koala pilot jetting the skies full of turkey jerky. At least that's what the matrix tells my brain it is. Not just another compact. I am driving excitement as I jump. Might as well. I put my soda down and said, "Laundry basket." I'm far to cool for this French dust bin. Time to light up and drink to the constable, the only man I ever really ate with a Chianti. The asparagus was fine the day, but far from ok. Reflected off the surface of the fence something could be gleaned, a goldfish? The old woman of a thousand names? Little Billy? All were possible but none had you name written all over it. I had never felt so ashamed, then some puppies peed all over my special forces tank top and all was well. Until they threw the book at me. Times tables or no times tables I wasn't letting that springer spaniel out of the little boys room until it would tell me the third verse of 'One Tin Soldier.' It couldn't remember so we had a skipping rope competition. I can't remember who won but it could have been Danny Basaraba for all I know. Sure of this I am not but that pole was slippery. Ripped his nutsack right open on the shower floor. Shudder. Shudder. Shudder. The New York Yankees are popular, even more so than deciduous forests, that's not saying very
m u c h .
Paid a dime, only farted.


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