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While on X, I wrote this, and I just found it, lemme copy it here...
"Truth is only hate to those who hate the truth"
Old man thunder, sound of thunder!
This simply must be included... as one of the greatest debut foot-longs in the history of the polyverse! Pretty parts for Aunt Hilda, extended instrumental passages of sonic wonder for good ol' Grampa Louie, straight-up-now-tell-me rawk for the Pomeranian pup frolicking in the garden, nimbly propulsive drumming for you and yours, rubbery basslines for all of our Hispanic brethren, and Budweiser for the people in your neighborhood who get you through the day and make you feel good, you fuck. Why did you do that, you FUCK?
I need Dramamine. I don't need DRAMA that's MINE. Funny play on words? No? I shan't ever believe you, not even in a million years. Crantastic mind fuck of the out-lovemaking-standing-type, traveling, swallowing, I think I'm in love with a girl, and that girl is God's vagina. With any luck, she fancies me as well, and we'll elope from her overbearing father and irrational mother to a mystical land of Johnny Rebel's magic, where a love such as ours will be not only accepted, but looked upon as a model for all future couplings. Unfortunate because those are the only tools at my disposal in this godforsaken hypertext medium.
If you could see my whirling-dervish style dance of joy then you might have a better idea of my quality as a human. If you like lisps, then you'll positively love me and my vocal pizza delivery. I know I do! Please stop breaking my cholesterol-choked heart. Me horny for mangina. Some kind of emotionless postmodern irony kind of stance. It looks like we all strive to be some horrific combination of an androgynous Wynona Ryder and a slow child from the late '70s. It's that damned Spock haircut and the tighter-than-tight dark blue jeans and t-shirts with ugly developmentally-challenged velcro shoes and hipper-than-thou attitude. We've all seen your favorite band in the basement of Tony's house back in '75 and they were just SOOO much better back then, before they sold out to mass-market consumer culture. Arrrgghhh! Feel free to provide running commentary, and f. you, m.f.
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