Posted 4:43 PM by Alfred

The thing that you have to know is that that which you thought to be true is totally false and of no substantiation of any kind. Up is left, forward is upside down, the whole nine yards. The music, doesn’t mean as much as you think. It means more. The soundtrack. To the day. and night. And like all kinds of shit, but then, in all reality it doesn’t differentiate wavelengths according to prescribed medicational levels established by professionals in their various fields. Wait stay on subject. What I meant to say is that being totally fake can be totally real. as in he could be that guy and that guy could be mysterio.

If you don’t think it’s true then just ask somebody. Anybody. What if your dog was really a cat? What if all it wanted was a scratching post and some fake extra long whiskers and cute cuddly jumping up on counters and like propogating on feline like characteristics. And then suddenly it realized that in truth, in what society has told you is true, that that dog is a dog. But it’s not. It’s a cat. And nobody, not anyone in this day and or age, can take that away from little scrappy. Cuz if he wants to be a one of them other side kine soup drinking but mostly milk ie from the family of cats. It just didn’t register. But it had to be accepted. Scrappy was in his soul, deep down where it really mattered, the most felonious of monks, um, cats.

How many identities did Chewbacca possibly have? That was from a web page I saw that I can’t remember. And but speaking of identities my 83rd is late for dinner on the west coast to see charles in charge without ellen degeneres in that one really underground episode. The one with Mr. Hand from that sean penn movie where he’s a total stoner in that van with those guys and he orders pizza in class and that guy jerks off in the bathroom and that scene with the supposed romantic dinner with big chairs.

Plexiglass coated with steel alloy prevents 72 degrees of prostitution, the kind endangering America and the federated states, from damaging this infrastructure. And don’t even try to call 99th avenue for the update cuz I took those mofos out with like 43 hand grenades, me and Juan from 49th street in midtown, the one with the rollie fingers mustache and the potato chip breath and green bandanna, and with that fat guy with the greased hair and the glasses, bifocals.

He had to remember all that shit from the moment, the one where it went down, and it dawned on him he forgot to set the vcr to tape mr. Belvedere and was thus totally and completely fucked.

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