Having long passed the limits of sanity I now found myself at the brink on the farthest side of insanity. I had ceased being a cognitive event. I was on the verge of piercing the

Too often the fingers rebel against the brain or spleen. They just want to flex themselves. To show that they can go their own way. The brain, spleen, & any other organ, needed to

I've explained several times how the spleen got stuck in my brain; Lenny & Squiggy and the time that Laverne wanted to smoke reefer. Squiggy felt his spleen. Laverne took that as a

Is it all that awful to feel your own spleen? Who is going to let you touch their spleen? There once was ... wait, he still is. So, ok; There is a spleen who was explaining hydro-

Then I remember that I no longer have any concept of what a childhood is or isn't. Seven millennia lay between my childhood & now. How can I even say it was "my" childhood? I lived

Things were different back then. I was stomping straw into mud before I could walk. I had to or I wouldn't have a house to live in. We needed new bricks everyday for some reason.

Having started with stomping instead of walking I became a basket lady, albeit a man basket lady. One day, a stranger drew the attention of the person carrying me in my basket. She

The room was thickly crowded. So much for social distancing. The stranger was standing in the middle of the room. A pool of light seemed to fall upon him only. I was placed down in

The stranger had consulted with all the learned men and woman (more about that later) in the realm. He had been given special dispensations by the High Priest and the Pro Consul.

The Procedure, as the Stranger called it, would require nothing less than transforming my disfigured legs into the Philosopher's Stone. I get redemption & they get any gold left.

That was a typical transaction on these backwoods worlds. I've always thought that insane. We're from a waterworld, we don't have front or back woods. Here I am calling this place

I keep seeing Bianca Jagger. I can't forget that day at the museum when Susan Sarandon was my mother. I'm still not ready to parse that one. I was the demon child that crawled over

Demon Seed the packet read. FREE SAMPLE. That is all it said. Was it a flower, fruit, or vegetable? No directions. I cut myself on the foil & the blood started boiling. I dropped

Her big man hands took my business for a drag around the room. I wasn't complaining. Not with a ball gag in my mouth. I could hear one of her other pets down the hall whimpering.

Big Bertha & I had worked out a deal in which if I accidentally died while under her ministrations she would be paid $1,003.313 for services rendered. Today is the last day of that

I dreampt I was the path that walked the man. When I awoke I was still a butterfly. Wait. Is there another stage for me. I hope not because I barley survived being pulpa during imp

It is true. I seem to have forgotten the life cycle of the butterfly. I hope I haven't inadvertently extended the drought over there in that drought stricken area by Papa's Yugo.

It was Super Bowl Sunday and I suddenly found myself free. But, afoot. The only car I could get was a Yugo. And I paid through the nose for that. Bare bones feel fat once you've

It got the job done. It was an adventure wondering which sound meant something bad or really bad. I guess I lucked out. San Diego to Palmdale and back and I'd gotten used to her.

The car did ok as well. It got to stretch its legs, so to say. I bet nobody had been fool enough to take her out on the freeway that fast. The time we spent under the Laguna Street