2 Folds
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flap open like a bird spreading its wings. I didn't know I could be so fast, an inspiration to millions of fans. The secrets revealed themselves to be eye holes. I didn't know. I -
2
And so there "Eye" remained, aloft in the attic. Still as a woodpecker's nose at the end of the branch. Buttered waffles remained static as their clandestine atmospheres of goo-sha
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Once in a Thai crystal palace there lived a young man who wished to one day be a monk. He chanted the mantra he had composed himself and written down in the black book every day
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when I open up those giant tupperwarewolfesque storage bins collecting dust beneath the bed, Ralph Lauren suddenly pops into my head playing seahorse polo, and I rush to the bath-
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bit her lip cautiously while smoking a Lady Slim with it carefully poised at the other side of her mouth. They had been out for a quiet night on the veranda, Momma fluffing her pu-
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isn't just a drunk in bad 80s hot pants." The shark chewing through an internet cable was too long and complex a story for the young biologist to fully process; yet, nonetheless, a
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at least it wasn't salted. The pseudo-scientific man who was hired at the carnival to bark at things felt so stupid for answering that Craigslist ad. Man, why was he at this dumb
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realized I was back in the 80s and couldn't get out. The problem wasn't that there wasn't enough headroom. There was. There just wasn't enough music videos to kill the radio stars.
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trices and thereby impregnate all the women in Detroit through its only begotten couch potato. She had a litter of spuds, but the Snffbopolas needed more milk. Detroit woman just
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-ened into anybody's business, really. Just as a matter of protocol. Well, being a time traveller, Orwellian scenarios were not something I was drawn to when I wanted to escape.
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"Why is my name Chance?" They seemed to ponder this together, at least at first they did. Yet Jurtok was flighty. It had a quantum brain that could go much faster than Chance's.
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The glass jar, bereft of all its former antiquity, decided the story was going nowhere fast. It had to think. Of something. And so it thought, and as it thought it moved. And as it
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But since I was already mostly in bridge pose, my head resting on the bare ground, I tried focusing on the point in the grass where the trees cast their evening shadows.
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unforgiving. The ferret had been in his cage, I swore to my boss, but he just wasn't buying it. He said, "Why don't you just go back to the circus," where I'd be better off, and I
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anymore, so he grabbed ahold of the woman next to him, who had amazing cheekbones. She had a certain glow about her. It turned out, though, she was an android too. His mind turned
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eat them first. And quickly. This earthworm was no Jubbly Eater. He preferred dirt. But the jubblies looked so lovely, so colorful, so bright and cheery, the first thing seen under
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glorious. Although, Tinker was amazingly stiff for a snowflake. She seemed to need me to be quiet with her, and at first it was hard for me to dance around her. She was icy and
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cheese-wiz, frothed into gooey buttercake. Cucumbers historically were crooked examples of Indian men who brought zazen to the West Coast. In this case, however, Vitamin-pumped-man
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little nerves they had left. For in this show, the "audience" was actually part of an experiment and had just become aware that this was like Cirque Du Soleil meets Saw III.
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in The Monkeytheist, a publication of an anonymous group in San Francisco. As it turned out, the paper received mixed reviews. A theologian named Jokey said the research was fixed.