Microsuede Reptile and Immersion into Senility

I danced with father and mother until I drowned. My breathing time behind me, I became stronger, with good claws to mutilate the Earth and fashion a fine underground lair.

I shelter my morality and language here to make school lose its musk. What you may see is just what it is, am excellent buried pickup truck cell.

When doctor fell asleep on me I was only a nude guy without a single pixel of clothing to my name. I lashed myself to him and eventually our similar penises fused umbilically.

Moving and speaking spiky ivy grows thick behind the lab. We have an entirely valid relationship as a single consolidated person.

At yellow creek, the nudes we sell to cruel guys in prehistoric blazers give us a sense of bravado. Their purchases earn them points which they can redeem for music or cash.

Cephalic Embrace

In the mask they offered us a chance to resign. I've never eaten and I was inclined to accept the offer. So I did.

Next, I bought a large bag of drugs from my former step-father (as an aside, I wish there was a less awkward way to refer to a step-father your proud and willful mother divorced). It was time to make plans for oblivion.

The orcs on their leashes at the leg meat cafe sounded like mesh rash, their friendship dissected and laid out like items on deep discount. Jean said she would have to edit our green simulations of ecstasy. I concurred.

Still, I wait

I Hear the Faucet Song

My family lived for corrugated lipids and weak gelatin. We awakened to the inhospitable presence of medicine, one by one until we each possessed our own distinct odor.

Eventually the worship ritual felt rather self-reflexive, a form of respect paid to the memory of a permanent flattery rather than to the horror of inertia.

None of these Hams are Fine

Crispy golf lady feeds lip noodles through a surprisingly bouyant plastic appliance that turns them into moist wads. Lip meat makes great jewelry for a stranger's husband or, if it's mushed together into a large enough lump and bronzed, a unique paperweight.

When she finishes the wads she tosses the appliance into a water hazard and indeed it floats.

Hamper on the Deck

Spirited, frisky, flirty, and polished to a blinding sheen, this is my mother. My mother! She pounds on her kettle with a heavy oblong utensil, her hands stained black with soot from the fire she pulled it from.

I am punctured by the ancient island spirit as the miniscule orbs in my blood swell and vibrate and the sound attracts someone: my father. My father!

He extracts a gleaming silver needle from his fake hollow ass cheek and uses it to write music notation on my chest. A super football jock but also a nerd, he possesses the harsh guttural voice of a sulphur stork.