“And I looked, and beheld the sphere, (Pocket pickers sent among audience) (special section for phys rule breaking a stringa brains) Seek not the barkers of the Whirr, for verily they are as unto the ashtray, and verily, they are the ashtray that squirts and bubbles in the soren of the squid. I cannot tell you the number of the squid, and last night I ate an old lady’s tits. Why, you may ask. Hundred and five I say. A hundred and six. Nay, nay. A hundred and seven. She had a hundred and seven breasts just waiting to be formed beneath the Nippled, dewlap, and I but suck’ed them forth to be. For can your butt be proud, and walk tall, when your pocked is picked in the front of your crotch? If your wallet is stolen from a body cavity, can you still be saved? To which I say in the name of the Pung, in the name of the Red Rung, a hundred and seven times yes. A hundred and eight. Hello and yellow, fellow and brellow, if your name were stolen from a body cavity, you could still be saved. IT TAKES MORE THAN SOME FLATULENT CROSS BETWEEN AN ENRAGED OCTOPUS ON AMPHETAMINES AND A HALF DROWNED BUG/EATER OF FACES TO STAND IN THE WAY OF THE TWEENERS BOY “Fear not the PUNG, as it reaches in thy ear to trampoline and rubber SPRUNG your mind and will. Seek not the avenues of the Grid. Walk the diagonal path, tho Storm and the Hurricane beset thee at first, they are but illusions Contemplate the kitten. Think hard on what gifts it may bring. Later the palace quail did not stop runing running in streams, in straight lines a giant web off each surface of the room til they found an edge and spiraled off into infinity. He had to eat a whole cordless drill to catch his breath. Even the legendary glance into the quail’s eye produced only his soft and quavering sort of wet apprehension reflected back at him. Has a quail shishkebab tied to a duck shishkebab a human face? Can it walk about on human legs tho the air be cut with crushed glass and cyanide? If I pulled the flesh from my face back with my fingernails, would a hummingbird flutter forth from the empty eyesockets of my imagination? Tenderly he began to pull the flesh from his face. The skin and muscle separate so easily from the bone, he thought, as his face drooped upon his chin like a slipped Richard Nixon mask. I wonder if I will be able to talk when my mouth is gone? Can a grinning chattering skull still sing opera? Is my acting career ruined? He put his nose carefully on the glass table and looked at it with a telescope. We are now passing by Andromeda. Nick nock. The nose did a little dance and bowed to him. How proper. He put his two hands together in the Indian prayer salute Tat Tvam Asi and bowed low from the waist, yes, out of courtesy, but also swift and deadly like a hatchet. His nose, given new life and talking to the Void People all by itself now, intersected with the concavity where it had been in a reverse direction. As its tiny legs kicked and scrabbled in his mouth he thought: How strange the world has become. A moment ago I breath’d the air, now the air breathes me. He floated across the room on his back and passed into the infinity of his windowpane. In his house there was a picture of a woman in a wheat field, crows in a weatfield, the meadow shambles, the earth burps, the picture shetters, the fingers of the earth cross, it’s time for lies broken promises wishess smm smmm and hmmm hmmm. I wish I wish to pee my plee, my please o swish o lala lee. If you cross all your fingers you become a crab. Walking sideways o switch chitch. My grandmothers face exploded all over the barn when she did that. They still find bits of brains in the seaweed where the lake meets the shedshore. What’s that? O stringa brain o lala o lalago. The world was old and spun and spun. My grandmother’s teeth jumped out of the water like sharks as her lower arm and her graceful hair swung in arcs and the only way she ever got anywhere near the horizon was to lie on the ground with her eyes upside down watching bugs humble around the sun. BZZZZZZZ Extreme heat can bring you to Leelee, and extreme cold. If you run naked down the street screaming cutting yourself throwing angels everywhere you WILL TURN INVISIBLE. The: 1) “he is ugly” 2) “i find him ugly” 3) “he will turn ugly when I flash my eyes at him.” 4) “a web of angel-bugs drools from his nose. They are ugly” 5) “the strings that drool from the noses of the angel-bugs all connect to one another” 6) “if i spin the collective fast enough light will be produced” 7) “the light will burn the eyes of my enemies” 8) “my enemies also are ugly” {proceed to (1) in corollary} 9) “a nose is a virus” AMEN! -- St. Thistle Pleeloolala Kachunk QPM 888-412-0683 qpm@oocities.com http://www.oocities.org/SoHo/3216 LEAP BEFORE YOU LOOK THINK STUPIDLY, ACT GLOBALLY. EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING