Grappling grated greatness jinderhopping gingerly. No need lane helig. If indeed this was a formulated meaning from beyond the grave of consciousness or unconsciousness, I fear I forget which. Like a fright in the night sandwich. It is night buy the way, yes it is a good bargain. Bargain Shmargain, I need some jack back. I need the troupes to rally behind their leader. . Hmmm. This brain surgeon on my left and his alter ego, my dwindling emaciated hog faced golden boy. Tooele Tom and his Nuclear arsenal. They are athestically acclimate to my logic, and Mau’s logic. After all; do you include this, this, or heavens fears nears the seers of succulent future forming, Jonte’ Postman. Yes the new b-ball player out of the east, the Far East, he is 4 feet tall, and uses only the power of his mind to sink the pigskin. He is the yin of the shoe bin, and the yang of the fat lady sang, so get off your bleachers and kiss my basketballs.
In this great future, we know not which, like perhaps Einstein who wooed all but the image of greatness, his own reflection. Put off, like some spongy nosed geniuses often get, he hunches down and hitches wholesome hayrides with the boys, Hank and Huff, the sheep shepherds up the hollow.
What fun it became when all but three were left, the ensuing promise of a delightful downhill glide on the great wagon ripped away from them by a blind armadillo with the density of a prehistoric horse patty sphering himself immediately in the way, and only now realizing that they were alive, their alarming fall arrested by the now flittering straw, decided to hitchhike backwards all the way back to Silar City, up West.
All though three heads are better than one, unfortunately no roads are not better than one, and the old oak vehicle had curiously planed forcefully into a dense thicket of used wigs from the late 70’s.
So in truth, the old lucky Jewish man had fell off his wagon in a thicket of wigs, and from all outside appearances unbeknownst to him, he had discovered that he was in the middle, not only the very center, but the absolute point of origin of a colossal underpinning, or is that undertaking, no. Because that would be tending after a dead man. And indeed, dead men are only in the news anymore today.
