Why hello there friends and foes, freaks and geeks.

So my madness has been taking many transient shapes as of late. I feel a brick shall soon be thrown through threes company windows. A glimpse of the gander that I get would have you shocked and laughing. I sit, and ponder, am I really this lost in the now that NOW becomes then, and then I'm taken aback without a moment to spare? I dare say that I may pray to nothing above or below, but I do bellow at my most desolate lows and shriek in wonderment at my peaks and apex. I guess, as I sit, that I admit to myself and any who care to dare to read this drubbing...shrubbery...two shrubberies...Nee.

I am rubbery in my breath. It comes and goes. I feel out of it. Perhaps some musica will lift my sour puss state. I feel wretched and free...Drats to the day that is new. I am but 2 minutes in, and already I feel eschewed from my ideal. Or even a fun filler. I am still here, waiting and watching the clock fade away. Even those digits feel bad for my tired eyes. My mind gets nothing but fireworks, trajectories of contradiction and hypocrisy. It's a fun roller coaster that I'm indulged with daily...

So, I must admit a certain specific affinity, that runs deep...pistachios motherfucker. Don't mess with MY NUTS. I'll snipe the man who wants to stand between me and some cream. MMMMM mmmm mmm good. Gelato, yogurt, shit, you pick the weapon...

Pulp Fiction Sound Clip sound bite
...Shit's serious.

I don't know about the rest of you, but a change gon' come. I was born by the river...and shit's been flowing like a rapid rising ever since I got my head above water. I need some scuba gear, a corkscrew, a cucumber, and duct tape. :) Magyver. What else can you say, the man puts 'gruder to fucking shame.

It's a shame I don't get more opportunities to decompress and let my mind unwind. Mind you, I am the catalyst to my catacosmic sickness, yet I do little more than feel and fuel the fire from within. When you can't beat em, join em, right? Well, when you can't beat what you yourself created, then you're in a bit of a bind. Who the fuck do I enlist with? Me? Myself? Irene took the day off...

Well, I coulda, shoulda, woulda had a boost of something wonderful for those who made it this far. What goodie bag kind of shit can I leave you with, kiddies (cue the Crypt Creeper reference)? Ah ha, I do say, I must play your cards in this fashion, for it is truly fashionable indeed.

Check you later sound bite