Just Words are just words

Tis a pleasure to make your aquaintance and welcome to the continuing story of feeble-mindedness and scientific inquiry! And what a story it is! We left our hero at home, so instead we'll use this pencil - look at it! - So this pencil is, uh, makin an omlet. For the king of science. And he's struggling, what with his not having arms and all, (plus he aint the sharpest one in the box! [that's Ted.]) but he suddenly realizes he was a cactus hallucinating he was a pencil the whole time! Now here's where it gets really confusing.

The, pencil that it be, was, as it were, no longer inside the cactus - how could it? For the jam jar certainly wasn't a pine tree! Four times, I checked if it could be, but alack! Indeed, who could say, in such a decisive manner, that the cactus, instead, was apart (or, perhaps, a part) of the pencil? Certainly not I! Pursuasive as it may be to think such a thing given the facts, the facts, as I have called them -as I have seen them - have been neither by "not me". You, being not me, are clearly included as "not me," and heterofore ought to have used a tad bit more discretion in your appearantly blind acceptance of the unknown! For shame!

THE END... --~..~

Wow, wasn't that a powerful tale? It's based on a true story, you know. You know you scamp! Don't gimme that look! I don't even want it. Seriously though, you keep it.

When enough's not enough,
I'll be there

Anti-Semantic Banter within Barrington

You earned it, jackanape!
It's about time we fessed up here at Primo Kebab: Pretty Tommy Noble. We've strung you, our devout readerships, along a severely incoherent sequence of excerpts that seem to bear little to no meaning or worth. However, that is the meaning, so ya done. It's all coming back now, there's nothing you can do to stop it! Nyahaaaah! Fear me, or fare ye not too well in the futuroo, eh hneh hyoo?

Now that we can all agree on the fact that there is, indeed, as the studies hath showethen, a walrus involved in a hippopotamus scheme (the whereabouts of which are currently still yet unknown to mankind as of today yesterday) against the fabric of what always and forever will be Steve forces (read: Steve's forces - an elite group of wildebeest trained in social activism), there's a lot on our plate! The collective plate of unifying consciousness, Kay? Em? EN?

En inglEs, por favor.

Steve,
Forces ever!

Whose shoes are these?!

They're certainly not mine; at least i dont think so. Shoes? Nooo way, boss. Not me, no way, no how, not neva. But alack! "Not mine" isn't a specific enough definition! So the answer, my friends, remain ambiguous. Fuckin' ambiguity! The bane of our need to know all the shit about everything! But I say why know when you can not! Heavy stuff, I know, but bear with me. Rawr! Fuckin salmon and honey! Yeah! Anyway, I mean to say what I already said. So if you don't get it, that's the point! Ya gaddarmnied carmurblik!

Look at this! What is this?! It's the plight of a generation! People are being pulled apart by horses in the streets! Don't believe me? Well fuck you! I say what goes on! So anyway, pulled apart by horses! The most pressing moral issue in the world today! Some say it's cruel and unusual punishment; some don't. Either way, both sides have a compelling argument. So the problem continues! To plague over our entire society. In the literal sense. Bodaba bwahdabwahbwaow!

In the interest of time,
I Left the Change on the Counter.
Yours,
Welcome

Dating with Aged Relatives

So you wanna date a rock, eh. Like 65 million years old kinda rock, ya gramma ya great auntie what have you be it so, move it Capitan. It's not exactly accepted by the society gremlins (I call them "people with convictions", or "pieces of shit", for short) so you'll have to keep it sneaky, get it? Yo got me? Shall it continue? Are we tightly embraced as if on the peak o' the Eiffel Tower on a romantic outing with an elderly relative? No, fuck that bucket of bison-puke, we're on the Space Needle with cocaine-covered shnozzes and thousands of purple flowers in our hair, get on The Level why dontcha. I'm in a super position right now, and I'd like to share it! But you gotta give me something in return that's just how it woiks you goddamn fooligan. Fool me again. Heh, noooo way no cow get outta here. Give me some flowers or a milkshake or some shit. Real classy. Shall the salsa go on folks? Slow my roll if it shan't, really, I insist, who are you kidding, get the fuck offa me, d.

You gotta be sneaky, alright. That's all I'm saying. I know I've said a lot of fucked up shit in my life but it's really all been about that central claim: sneakiness - key. Key baby. Key to my heart, unlock it with love you dirty schmuck (may he rest in peace). Not gonna try to be jocular here, bisons. No-no ain't nobody going to like it if you go down that dark path -- and Believe Me, You -- shiiiiit's dark. But when you have a button to press, it demands pressure. Press away me lovelies. Send it to the Press. aweounacwdivunaiweurf AWEORIAN DFJFIIII XNIEME Iznugi. thuiodddd. czxciu erthu anjkoi dfah.

And you can quote me on that last bit; the rest was nonsense.

- The Glass Man

New Hip's Hop: What "words" is

The doughnut. A feat of modern engineering in it's own right, sure, but what's more is the figure of it's being! How can one find a more perfectly designed object to be placed over a spoke or ladder leg perhaps! Why is the question I'm sure you're all asking; why should that be the qualification for the most perfectly figured of all foods? Why not perhaps the food most similar to a perfect cone? Or some other quality, whiche'r you like! Don't be picky, Picky! Well why the heavens not I say! Understand it. Be it. Now, move on!

The dearest issue to our heart here at Primo Kebab: Insanity's Only Cure is none other than the indoctrination of thought! Thought with all it's meanings and concepts! Thought, the only reason for thinking! Thought the thing you're thinking about right now! Thought thought thought thought tought tought thought thought thought! What does it even mean anymore?! But the sickest shit of the whole shitshow that thought makes is that you have to think about how fucked up thought is! You've got a sick, sick brain. It disgusts me. And now on to our next picture, SuperHappyFunSaladTableParty...Lamp.

It's so well lit, you might just start having fun while you eat a table made of salad in a super happy party. It's got the most useless information that's ever emerged from a donkey's anus in over a fortnight! Literally, over a fortnight. You hearin' me, boss? Boss o' the Trees? For one we fall, for trees we ball? Yak yak yikkidy yook ya get it, I'll move back to the motion picture. It starts: uhhh oh yeah it's starting, okay shit I gotta think, whaaaayo myo. There's a happy family of doughnuts living next door. You are squirrels. You, and your dumb as dick apartment-mate, that is. Fucking squirrels except they (you, that be: what it always be and foreva will won't) are just people on mushrooms that believe themselves to be squirrels. But it's, like, cool, because the doughnuts are real keen folk. They'll feed you anything, right? So you're always well-fed. But then you realize that it's all been an elaborate ruse to get into your heads and steal your lamp, so you get back at 'em by throwing a really fun party made of salad tables. The do'nuts become SUPER happy and then you eat their jelly and chives and 1 beer because that's really all those lousy snookems had in their fridge.

Whaddid ya think? It's a completely finished product, script, scenery, cast, donkey and all. Might be a few tweaks with who's the donkey's chef, but for the moist part (that is, the part with moistness), shit goin' right!!! Where YOU going?! 'Splain yourself, you dirty bassist. That's the bassist for everything. IT ALL COMES DOWN TO THE Bassist. funkify your basics. I'm a tree.

Simple Math for Kids! Also Animals.

I'm glad we've met again, so soon, my friends. Auspicious, even, it would seem. There has been recent development of a theory in the most scientific regions of the Earth (ya know, like Sweden or fucking whatever that shit is): all of humanity's/existence's efforts toward an objective order can be summarized through an equation. Just think of it like this, folky men of the folks valley. People who believe that people are obligated, or, at the very least, ought to want, to collectively act for the "good" and "equality" of others are theorizing existence as an equation that equates humanity with this idealized order. We here at Primo Kebabs:The Tastiest n Crumbliest!, Inc. posit that it ain't no equation, ya tomfool you. Rather, humanity and all of this existence is a term; just a fucking term. Shaddup, ya done. We are chaotic and entropic and that is the beauty of our human sentience! How lucky are you! And me! And this badger! Whoa, get that badger outta here, whoa nelly, whodatdoewat.
I can't even breathe though all this garbage, can you? its far too much fir one man ta handle let alone many men. and perhaps women, we allow those here. we accept all types of people here at Primo Kebabs: The Kick in the Pants Your Mama Ordered in '73 the movie that made me decide to do every drug ever! Look at it! Fuckin do it you fuckershitcockerspanielfailfuck! Wow that was harsh. Sorry about that folks, I can't help fellin how I feel thou. I'm just trippin balls, don't mind me.
And now that all that's over, to the jokes!
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Because the chicken was a fuckin not real thing that no one cares about and only exists in terms of this joke so the chicken does what I fuckin say it does. That damn stupid bitch.
Enough joke! i'm already fallin off my goddamned seat with laughter. It's fillin me up to the brim if you know what I mean. and if you don't, it's not doing that. because that's how that works in real life. and that's the bottom line cuz stoned and cold says so. bam, in the face, of all you and ya mathas.

Doobz n dogz,

Snoop Dog

A Poem - That's It.

Why don't dolphins fly?
They just
Fucking swim
Imagine the alternate dimensions
In which
Dolphins
You fuckers
Are flying fucking everywhere
Holy shitsicle
Grab my tits, poopsadosio this cuntcock is one sick piece of shitdouche
No my Jesus
Your Jesus
Get it off ah shit whoa
Who in the
Get

- Funny Man, the lone resident of Funnytown