Saturday, August 4, 2007

Cornea Pangea

Go see Will Franken. Right Now. That is, until September 1st-this-instant. This man possesses the fire that left us all so long ago, his impressionable, incendiary, sweeping pulley system of clergy violating buzz will vanquish all your entire previously gathered internal editorialist.


Also, furthering even your most ambitious, rebellious allegories towards action is the only way you prosper. Recite. Now go hang out with people you aren't normally accustomed, say, for me, a few lovely, cordial, grubby drag queens or trannies or whatever simplifying synonym suits you. You will soon see why in the rest of your dour space, you will just attempt to learn to accommodate that large stick in the culo as opposed to potently dislodging said device like, at least socially, they have. For myself, these visual accompaniments are pure rhetoric, potentially for you all an entirely different tale that should not elicit guilt or a harangue attack. Just acknowledgment.

Where would we be without the iconic wheelchair host
who storms the green nettle and gallops onward?

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