fieldstink

dude what the hell do you think you're doing? i don't know i'm typing. ok. good night then junior.
ring around the rosie...rosie...quite contrary...how does yon gardeneth growth? the cradle and the baby the cow jumped o'er the mooneth...how sooneth? very. will you be supervising the transfer? listen to "last chance to evacuate planet earth before it is recycled" by porcupine tree.
this guy says in this book i read that mice are the ultimate rulers of the galaxy but still not smart enough to outsmart a man...boy. i am definitely not going to remember this week...maggot...how can you play the actual thing when you know it's going to cause trouble in the peepholes of society...bob "saggy bags" Mcgoogle once said something about how people who refuse to let go of the mundane soon get cancer and die. but the worst comes later when their bodies are dumped in a hole and covered with dirt. but that's only half worthy of being said because tension and fear are taking over from pompous obnoxious juice-pumpingism. the early manuscripts of boy include crude pictures of super heroes...funny side-kicks...dumb villains and happy endings. the book gets dirtier...the drawings turn to words and the words make drawings still...just the same...but well defined pictures with only one dimension visible to the mind itself. but then something snaps and the words turn to scrawls...scrawls turn to fire...fire turns to smoke...smoke turns to mutancy...mutancy leads to scrawls...scrawls lead to words...words lead to pictures...pictures lead to simplicity...mind jelly.

there is a woman on television talking about how she's addicted to sex...i guess we'll have to continue this lovely chat some other time...
early 70's keyboardists who wear sunglasses
remote controls should be surgically attatched to my being. all of them...
this woman addicted to sex is crying on television...that makes no sense...how can a woman be addicted to sex and not be able to satisfy her addiction...on this planet...you can die of hunger but never die of lust. i like it when americans die. not because i think they're all bad...no...i just know that they're all bad. how many people would you be able to recognize just from their dicks? army doctors. the simpsons have been sucking for a long time now...time to move. i was walking with the crownless king in the streets of france and he bends down to pick up a croissant from a stall...he took the croissant in his hands and smelt it and then started tearing it to bits and throwing them all away. french people are wierd but not that wierd. so they stared at the crownless king whilst i said, "yeah sure."
i think, i'm sure...i would rather die than read dickens.
templer...simon templer. roger moore was cool in 'the saint'...if you watch it on a black and white t.v...otherwise you can see how old he is...and the show always had a cool starting thing...some guy would say, "who's he?" or words to that effect and then somebody would answer..."he's simon templer." and then they'd show roger moore and he'd look up and their would be a halo on his head and then the music comes on...tootootootoootoot too too too too too too etc.
tonight you've turned into a demon bastard. somewhat.

porcupine tree. the song i mentioned...it goes something like so

If you fall asleep with me
You can dream and drowse
The miuntes turn to hours

We could climb a tree or two
And watch the sun go down
Upon our sleepy town

After all the time I spent with you
Summer went away
And we just weren't the same

It's just you and me alone
Not grown ups but not kids
You kissed me on the lips

hahahaha gross...good lyrics...yes well...good night.
children will go and fry now.