Someone is roasted.

Rewarding myself mayhaps? Who gives an iddle squibibble. I am soaring around the solar space only checking out things that pertain to me, cause I am tragically solipsistic, yet have been deemed worthy of a ring powered by the main battery on Oa.

Whut der fook am I saying? Does it really matter? An explanation will not make it any more fun.

I would say I often sink into dark moods. I know I'm more seasonal than an apple crop. The seeping in of metal skied cool days is glee time for herr spanky. On the environmental equivolent of "taste's great!", "less filling!", I vote for the ice age apocalypse instead of the desert wasteland apocalypse. Just a quirk. Probably coded in my RNA somewhere.

Also I vote for spanky unemployment to take place, nay, even initiate in the fall. Me likey Autumn. Rustling leaves. Snuggly layers of sheets. Warm steamy herbacious drinks glowing your tummy. Fucking Halloween yo. Step back, Da Fall is the shixxy. Ya digski?

So, yes, I have taken the escapist route. Politely moisten my crack with your pucker. Escapism, while dangerous at critical volumns, is beneficial slack in moderation. I will not douse the satiating flames of slack. Slack is a vice I refuse to give up no matter how many presumptuous laws you etch in granite. I file slack under "persuit of happiness". Unclamp yo'sef from my slack fool. You fuck with my slack you are just fucking with my emotions.

Feelings. Whoa oh oh feeeeeeelings. This song makes meeeeee feeeeel like transfishing someone. Completely weird obscure movie reference that.......hold on gotta drain the lizard, just thought you'd like to know the running tally of the urethra status......... Ahhhhhh. Ahuh. Completely weird obscure movie reference that hardly anyone will git. We're gonna git ya! We're comin for ya! Yee haw hoo dogdaddy! We'll march right on in and do what we pleases, cause we are the last superpower, googoink! Woop woop! Jump back and kiss ourselves. Super Power! Say it again oh lordy pordy stew. Super Power. How many others have them? Super Powers. Everybody had Su-Per-powas. Ones you can depend on.

Yeah that hurt my head too. I'm not sorry.

Literary smack. Synchronised swimming with my junkies.

Snicker. I attached myself to literature. That rocks! If I was any more full of myself than I already am, I'd be forced to begin a spanky consumption diet. How many calories are in spunk anyway? Ooooooo. I will write the soon to be famous spunk diet cook book. You know at least ten people that would purchase it. Trust me, I've been monitoring your activities. You definitely know at least ten people that would subscribe to my trendy spunk diet program. Don't front. Don't back neither. Don't even sidestep my pale ass. Just center all over the place alright? ALRIGHT?!?

Alright.

This will not become cloud partingly clear the more you read on I hope you realise. As a matter of fact I am willing to place wagers with good odds given to your side of the arrangement. See what I'm poppin and wavin? Beyond this point you will be forced to secure part of your body from blasting from it's roots. Me and Grover, fuckin Super Grover, ya heard me, warned you against turning the next page. Grover has even boarded up the next chapter and is begging people to not proceed.

Grover is always fucking serious. Don't sleep on the geometry I slap together with an Erector set. Grover is a pillar of seriousness.

Stop fucking chuckling into your beverage. Grover is like Jerry Fucking Lewis genius level. Of course especially in France. The French have some of their marbles for horse bomb sake. Finely crafted sparkly marbles.

Bownk wownk choo choo wownk wownk. Bownk wonky choo choo wownk wownk.

Impressive young spanki. Herbie Bug Luvstoli has trained you well. I see much of the forks you use. Totally off the script. I'm fired.

I smell impressive. Show the filter asshole. They don't need a filter. Right, just string them along on a completely non-narrative hell storm of insanity without any structural breaks. When the fuck did you wake up? Are you one of those hibernating spectres only stirred preternaturally awake with the prolonged lack of firewater craftsmanship? See, that's exactly what I am referring to. Stand erect for once in your page ya splitter. Alright, sheesh. I smell impressive to me.

The aroma is distinctly cuisine species, or maybe that's genus. Regardless, the escaping wafts I sample whence I outstretch my arms, are inherently epicurean. It resembles a finely seasoned well aged cut of meat. Probably slightly cooked, but nothing beyond medium rare. I know many just pictured me in a griffin legged porcelean tub with platinum finishing, bathing in steak sauce.

I understand breathing heavy into a paper bag helps.