Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


there's a pseudoscience to explain all facets of bureaucratic system overloads, and fortified almond milk for breakfast iS the only way to remember inadvertently stealing a math book at the 8th grade graduation i forgot to tell my parents about while cackling monsters duke it out with canola bottle hands spinning out at a stop sign in a government-issue buick, some of that action movie manual jazz, smooth enough for bricklayers and parking lot attendants addicted to internet porn, wearing St. Louis Cardinals 2006 world champion hats in a mad dash towards abandoned circus rides and trial-by-fire lawyers mocking tow-bit thieves and married men placing craigslist sex ads featuring pictures of just their penises, you can see the rest in a nonexistent future where all dream journals are kept under strict supervision by walnut trees toting the new state-of-the-avant-garde ceramic tile floors seen in the dining halls of dorms packed with sweaty losers, shitforbrains business major with an eager ambition to rape their hands, eating frosted flakes out of tin cans while the marlboro man sucks down nuclear waste icees doing a handstand on the backs of unemployed service workers as the ballgame lets out which means there may be a rush of sweettits comments and beatings of homeless men at the corner of market and tucker while flash mobs are jaywalking at just the right speed, holding fish tanks filled with the hands of ex-junkies all 3rd world and grimy, the way a scab feels in 80% humidity, and the headphone chord lives its monotonous life next to an AM/FM alarm clock system 1st designed in the 1970's waiting for the moment it will get to choke a B-list celeb nude on a poster of your bedside table recently bought at auction by a wealthy microbiologist from the slums of Chicago by way of Harvard for somewhere between 8 and 13 thousand Euros worth of piles of picket fences taken down in protest of all theories of gravity-defiance put forth in the past 43 years in solidarity with oppressed paperweights placed through the data-rich experiments of mardi-gras bead throwing, charity golf games and, of course, those sad and lonely computer screens constantly having to display such tragic reports witnessed by horny gradschool students who can't wait to get into a lightweight coffeerage arguing over whether or not envelopes are necessary in a postpaper world where the birds checked out of the discussion a long time ago and even Stalin could get a good laugh in as a guest at a punkhouse potluck he found an e-vite to in his inbox as he, for a moment, took his gazing eyes off of the warm breasts in GoreWhores4 during a Sagittarius moon-eve party in which the 9 of hearts played a key role in an intense game of euchre featuring two nursing assistants and one former frequent of Rainbow Gatherings pushing all their chips into a hole of garbage left behind the doghouse of the dollhouse of a 10 year-old boy, whose parents were letting develop freely as he sat in psychiatrick offices pushing pencils inside every orifice of the building until one day a sadistic janitor replaced the lead with metal wire knowing he would be called to the scene to sweep away the dead body laying next to the outlet therefore getting to use his newcarsmell air freshener to rid the office of such hideous odors as necrophiliac uncles can't help but watch in astonishment of their lives' lost opportunities due to social faux pas' while their bastard brothers continually acted out mundane sex lives during their first 3 years with their first wives as the first shot of the night parades down the gastrointestinal tract of an 18 year-old sorority girl from west county on a power trip since her step-mom took away Lexus privileges after a facebook post revealed that she had a D in a sociology course focusing on the effects of firing squads on French schoolchildren whose parents' income brackets fell 16% or more behind the median household average.

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