||[08 Sep 2004|12:49am]
I'm a SCROOED. Fmeetoo. A hoy. Yoho. Rett. Grepf. OIL OIL in MY SPUD. I ate the disk because it looked at me funny. Mum said no, but I decided it was too late to suffer pens, so I went for it anyhoo. The onion cloud engulfed my soul in complete cider only then did I feel the phone ring in clear green. Christmas was common place on a stale satire of sinister dinner, the man at the window folded awkwardly at the sugar so I said "Yes".
After all of that, she flipped. FLIP FLIP FLIP. Never before had they looked so much like oranges, and Tommy Tim the Toptop jumped up the diamon staircase, only to find his mother's hatred hovering over a dead effigy. Suddenly, it realised, this IS real life, the lights ARE real, and nobody ever wants marmite rats compacted again.
The hands revealed pockets of France, the cast of steel removed from the underbelly of consciouness ripped from my tears and an understatement of euphoria pierced my mind, the beauty of such a breeze gently caressing my lungs was telling me "Grey Grey", and then the spirit spoke.
"Open your skin your mouth and feel the ladder leaning on your spleen subside and the conquest embarked on box".
So anyway she dressed up in her best yet revealing top and watched as everyone turned and watched. "It's all part of growing up" said Treddy, but nobody believed him, not after his record. She quickly swallowed her mouth and scratched in a skip-like fashion. Something hit her in the face, and she keeled over. Once more, the swift breeze of mole-breath drifted through the air, and a giant flower stomped down the alleyway in 3-4 fashion. Nobody dared look, for the knew if they did, they would all turn into bears with mildly irritating body odour.
"GOD of Bread" I cried!! I ruptured the hanging sense of dog. "NO NO NO YES NO!" She still bent down rubbing my poached jumper, I could feel my self getting hard. That distinct taste of duvet still lingering on my lips wasn't helping my feelings any and yet I wanted to run out screaming "SANITY SANITY has left me to your exhaust of frequent longings!" She bent lower and I knew it was coming. She bent and whispered in my ear and whispered with such lust.
She said "Printer".
Those words meant the world to me. For printers are my life. She removed her wig, unzipped her face and removed both of her feet. Infront of me now stood a two foot high, leaf faced boy, with an extraordinary large penis. I ran out of the room, shutting the drawer behind me, only to find the exit was guarded by a heavily armed screwdriver. At this point, as if in a story, the ceiling evaporated. And above me I spotted the Greek God of love, wearing a flowery dress, balding with white whisps of hair coming out of her nose, and her boat rusting. She was on the way to Disneyland, and I jumped on board.
The boat was small...cogs everywhere. Little gnomes ran at my feet. The God of Love said,
"Hello my name is John". She extended her ears and and I shook it. Here was someone I trusted, along time ago we were more then friends...we were confinements of Energy. The Energy was used to make depressed flies laugh when yet they shouldn't. And for that they thanked us and gave us their bodies. Now we were more the just simple forces of love and rubber...WE WERE CANS.
I rubbed my thumb softly against her cheek. We kissed; at first, tenderly, but then more passionately, greedily. She removed her wig, unzipped her face and removed both of her feet. Infront of me now stood a two foot high, leaf faced boy, with an extraordinary large penis. I found myself in the identical situation as before, but before I could escape, the flying boat crashed into the side of a gothic castle named Dave. Dave the castle grunted, and let out a large glass. I excused him, jumped out of the boat, and landed in my lap. I decided my hair WAS too long for this federation, and drank it instead. My back was far too cheeky in this situation, and ran away from the rest of my body. I sprinted after it as it ran towards the dark woodland directly infront of us.
Sweet FEEs of crimes! The first time I felt my back in years and it was too cheeky. I cried and I cried anvils of stupidity in my shoes. Books were cruel and yet so were joysticks at times of so much unease. John too was a leaf face! All this time living in paper to find the truth. My penis looked up at me and smiled and broke into song.
"BOXES BOXES and saucpans are all part of small time spittle." My penis went quiet for a while and I felt ready to move on. My back was having problems with a barbed wire fence, so I managed to catch it up on the entrance to the wood. After only a minute's walking, I gulped my marshmallow in fright as a container jumped me. It was bleeding all over the place after a repeated jab in the elbow from a large rubbish bin shaped like an old lady with green remote caliper. The eightth track of the container had a runny nose and asked me for a wallet. I emptied my pockets only to find Tommy's feed and a small brain socket, to the container's disappointment. I offered condolence, and a selection from the feed, to which it merely shook it's vent, sniffed, and wandered into the ground. I carried on into the woods.
I slept that frame and when darkness rode away on a green bike. The next day I woke to hear mouses in tubas. NOW I have reached my pinacle of nails my quest of the box has been fulfilled and my spleen replenished! The Leaf face has since admitted defeat and my penis can sing at will. Dave comes to visit me at times but only in threes. At night I still dream of cutlery and I have problems still concerning my back, for it has required a tail: 000440 04040 JO.