The Diary of Professor Twizzlenips - Second Entry
First Entry
Alas, it was time. Blessed with the speed of a ninja and the cunning of a ninja fox, the squirrel was ready. Was it time? No. It was not. In preparation for his mission the squirrel had mated, and mated well. Why? The answer is within. Within the squirrel. So the raccoon tore apart said squirrel to find the answer. But he found only the inside of the squirrel. Alas, is it time? Still it is not. Fuck.
In time you find that nothing is found in time. The clock plays games. Not regular games but games none the less. Remember that we are dealing with time, not just cards or dice. Dice and cards once embarked on a remarkable journey. Unfortunately dice's credit card was completely maxed out. Cards was disappointed.
The journey lasted until the end. Upon the end the deeds of ninja squirrel, raccoon, clock, time, dice and cards were never to be mentioned. This is why I will never tell of said deeds. But I will reveal this. Said deeds involved a midget. I have revealed too much.
In time you find that nothing is found in time. The clock plays games. Not regular games but games none the less. Remember that we are dealing with time, not just cards or dice. Dice and cards once embarked on a remarkable journey. Unfortunately dice's credit card was completely maxed out. Cards was disappointed.
The journey lasted until the end. Upon the end the deeds of ninja squirrel, raccoon, clock, time, dice and cards were never to be mentioned. This is why I will never tell of said deeds. But I will reveal this. Said deeds involved a midget. I have revealed too much.
Second Entry
And so it was written. Written by the sea and wind, and as the wind blows so goes the pelican. The pelican blows. Blows all his cash on exotic dancers and now has only enough for one pair of pelican briefs. After all, what are we but what we are except for who we hope to be and who we fear we will become, after all.
Driving Down to Dixieland. A song remembered in the sun on the sand. Seeing my dearest too drunk to stand. She had an affair with a one man band. Now I sit with my head in my hands. This turned out quite dark, that wasn't the plan.
As the old saying goes, what goes around comes around. Around to where you may ask. But you should not. For when the lightning descends upon the river's bank, all shit hell breaks loose.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home