Sunday, May 29, 2005

Submitting to Passive Examination

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We are all one in the fluid of druid. The wormhole has produced a nest from which has hatched a lovely sylph in the formation of cloud smears, once toxic, once salvish. The laser probes have come and gone. We are left with the possibilities of friendly manual probing - the resultant culmination is asexual, is pragmatic in a curative sense. There is more to be said but not now. I promise to tell another tale in the later hours which will be early in terms of tomorrow. Until then, may we all delight in our examinations.

13 comments:

Anonymous said...

If you can change me,
I will submit
to the probing hands on glands.
I will not commit
the suicide,
but instead,
will wait for later:
my skin will crisp
as I choke on smoke
and floor falls out beneath me.

Anonymous said...

Nice rhyme, tea time.

Anonymous said...

Hello my darlings! I represent you in the biergarten! Guten Morgen!

Anonymous said...

I am still so nervous about the white goo taking over. The winter coldness of the flesh.

Anonymous said...

I'm gonna eat his liver. Just tell me when.

sloth said...

Welcome back, dearest MM. We were beaming positive beams your way all day.

This picture is interesting. Tell sloth, is the man in the white T-shirt preparing to chomp on Marky Mark's arm? That is something Sloth would like to try.

Anonymous said...

Your manual probings only make us stalwart. Microfissures in the flesh are strongeholds for my kind. We will rule you for some time...

Anonymous said...

Be careful Sloth. Marky is very good looking. He is very beautiful, they say. He will look you in the eye while you do this and speak sincerely to you. He is dangerous.

sloth said...

Don't worry, Mrs. W. -- Sloth will meet Marky's gaze with a smiling mouthful of arm-meat, and blood smearing the lips. Sloth has developed a taste for the rare meats in the last days.

Anonymous said...

Most holy Zogg, I beseech you, why hast thou forsaken us. Thou hast allowed the White Goo to flourish and we suffer. Thou hast offered no remedy, no cure. Are we to perish in ignorance as penance for some transgression only your infinite wisdom comprehends? Take pity on our souls, retract the White Goo,

Mountain Man said...

The white goo is a force of furious anger from Medieval-Future Perfect Tense. I am sorry to hear of this, the nanorobots have clearly begun to self-replicate with mal-intent.

Marky Mark is a tender treat. I had him with bbq sauce and texas toast.

Anonymous said...

your teeth and tongue were delicate. I gut churn with tender affection in your pathways.

Mountain Man said...

Very nice Marky. We are friends in my stomach-nation now, fellow citizens. I have swallowed myself with the sauce of the bbq too. It is interesting to be inside out.

The plapsy of sun is here to add loveliness to our layers. I am headed indoors for the day, however, to be mole-like and studio friendly.