S T r e a M # 4 2

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The paddles do not eat the peas or the cornbread in the wind when you chase the girl with the pink ribbons in her hair. Why you don’t want to eat the juice when it’s frozen is beyond me. Then again, the dogs whimper when you lick their joint accounts that have been liquidated by thieves. But why should I care when you haven’t bothered to eat cheese with the monkeys in the desert with the blue blob from Detroit. The Blue Blob is NOT from Detroit. He lies. I mean he lies about where he hails from, although, yes, he does lie on the ground and he does make sand-angels in the desert sand – until he’s bitten by a scorpion. That’ll be the end of that in the eatery that doesn’t end anything of the sort. I want cheese fries. I want cheese fried with tomato juice. I don’t want that silly man over there telling how I should live my life with tomato sauce eating the pop tarts and the pipe dream. I don’t eat pipe dreams because they’re bad for my teeth. They’re HARD, like my cock. No, apologies: That was very uncouth of me. No, that’s not very apropos. No, that’s the dog drunk from the tomato juice in the desert sun. He doesn’t want you to drink seaweed. No, seaweed is for the fins on the turtles. Yes, that’s right, they have those now. When on the planet are you going to choose the mighty Dennis to ear the plankton in the run for the senate? Hm? I’m waiting? Why do I have to even ask. ALT: Why do I even have to ask? When the time is the time when the time is not the time when the time is the time is the time to tell the time when the time is the not the time when the time is the heat of the time of the not why not I not know why not because I tried so guard no so hard to eat the jelly beams. And also the jelly beans, too. I like them jelly beans. You don’t care about the jelly beams or the jelly beans. You care only for the jelly. The KY jelly. I don’t know the song you are singing. I would like to know but I am far to nosy today. Hi. How are you? Are you well? Why not say that you are not the kind to say. Say that you are the kind to not sat on the beach. That was not the right tone of voice. That was not the right time to eat the cheese. That was not the nice pony. That was the evil pony. How do I know the final outcome? He told me. The guy. You know the guy. He’s the guy. He’s the guy’s guy. He’s also the lady’s man. He’s also the one you eat cheese with. What’s all this about cheese? I couldn’t tell you. Tomorrow it will be one day closer to oblivion of the curbside check-in. That’s all they wanted to hear. That’s all they wanted to say. That’s all they wanted to say when I said to them don’t eat that cheese. It’ll make you fat and it’s not all that tasty to begin with. Are you paying for the cost of the price in the heat? No matter. Bottom (and, yes, then some) reached. 

15 July 2008

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