Stream of Consciousness January 93

IÕm simply too tired to sleep, or too bored.  IÕm looking for something interesting to make the night slightly more venomous than a snow-covered barracuda fish print.  Is the poignancy of the Vietnam era gone by the wayside like steel-walled shock absorbers and hair nets on children or am I just dreaming.  What if a blonde furor really did hump Sigmund Freud/Mom vigorously until blood ran out his mouth and eyes.  Would that be such a bad thing in this gravy-covered world gone mad?  Guitar string should never be swallowed, especially by large cats as they cause really nasty wedgewood china to appear in the kitty litter.  Has stream of cabbageness followed Rock and Roll to the grave or are they just hiding.  Maybe both are simply reoccurring phenomena of nature somehow tied to shell-shock and dark matter.
	NEWS FLASH:  90% of the missing mass in my head is made up of penguins.  More at 11:00
	Yes, Celia, they did burn down your speakeasy garage.  Swedes will do that kind of nastiness and then tell you about it in visual 12-tone in 31,000 point Helvetica.  What would people think if I eloped with an entrepreneurial aquarium designer from Quebec City?  (She was a great kisser as I recall.)  And why did the rain have to arrive just as IÕd gotten over the police barrier?  More inconsequentially, why did all the drops look like Ono-Sendai smilies, yes-men of the cybernetic second-coming, and burn like molten cement.  Put that one in your pipe and add lactic acid until your fingers turn into delicate, feathery newts at .4c in the y hat.  YingYang or is it Ying----Yang?  Daoist zygotes donÕt care about monkey piss as much as they do about the pain in the triodes in my left side.  Is your seer sheer?
	Higgledy wiggledy diddly plop!  This line of rime IÕve got to stop!  Retch upon your boots and stand proud only if you are a true ÒdÓ typer.  Remember in a damsel and dragon situation loot kill pillage and burn.  (Be the first on your block to stand on the top step.)  Adds like this should be banned because I appear to be looked at by the pink, shivering border guards.  Quell whore eat eels?  ÒHow was France?Ó purred the smooth talk show host.  ÒHot bad,Ó I replied, Òexcept for the crunchy bits.Ó  This drew substantial amounts of rancid crabtrees in the latter orchard as I recall.
	PPPP New Paragraph.  the one in which I dematerialize the quadra-para-quinta-pelicans over the back fence.  Do quadra-collegiates need motorized wheelchairs or just tight sweaters and beer (apply portable hole here ----> o )  thank you.  ÒI feel,Ó he bemused thoughtlessly, Òthat I could go on forever and surpass this universe in its ability to create and store dreck.Ó  He failed of course, which only goes to show you should never make a bet with the universe you intend to keep.  fPhunkypee.  Inklepooky Ocklepuck your liver smells just like a duck.  When you wish upon a lesion, makes no difference if youÕre Hessian, Or if you wear a pointy hat your dreams ream blooooooo!  Goodnight and God bless the lower portions while keeping the upper bits safely Reaganesque...

ÒI did not fall of my own right, I was rather pushed.Ó


(Charles Danforth)