it's something new for us to create.

it's something new for us to create.

Already, since you are reading this, I have a voice. You have already have a picture of me in your mind. Am I a man or a woman? Did you notice my red polka dot hat? You do now.

My mind, officially blown, suddenly grasped the profundity of the universe. " I....I see your hat...ma'am. Ma'am, is it? But also, I see your beard..........hello?....still there?"

...but she wasn't. She was gone... Completely black-holed into the vast nothingness which lies within the depths of her baseball cap... Shrunk to the size of an atom, hurled far

cically into the nostril of St.Molecule the Saint who'd seen an apparition of a prophet in a petri dish admonishing him that bacteria too were sacred & was now in his final fasting

phase just before fulfilling his fascinating function for the future of the flora and fauna found in the fecund fold of the following fruition. Frilly fragments felt St.Molecule's

filaments fondly. St. Molecule felt frizzled and fried, but try as he might, could not deny the benefit of having as many of fragments available to him as he wished. Time was

a very valuable commodity, and St. Molecule had very little time left. He listened to the sound of fireworks outside.

Finding their monastery reduced to a pile of rubble & the abbot toast, the monks delivered a rousing rendition of "Ding-Dong! The Witch is Dead" & gave the unabomber ruby slippers.