Fuckin' Brubrus.

So. I think I—I—*hiccup*—got this cold, this cold grabbed my hand and put a ring on it. Wait, did I say put a ring on it? *giggles* Sorry, I meant put a ring on it. I mean, put a—fuck, it's not important. It's like a sun tan growin' a beard, y'know? Wait. Don't sun tans have beards? I can't remember. I CAN'T PUT A HAND ON IT. SHUT THE MUSTACHE UP. No, the gingers. Asian gingers.

Anyway. Turkey brought over a fuckin' Li . . . Li? Li. Turkey. Li. Ahm. You get the—*burps, pats his chest*—the point. But it wasn't a turkey, 'cause it was white turtle meat. Very rare. Very rare and cold, and—*hiccup*—no, no, it was still warm. Ass. No gravy though, y'know? I think the gravy caught a ride to Demesne. And then another ride to China. And then another ride to bumble bee, where the gobbles . . . the gobbles . . . turkey. Which wasn't a turkey, but—did I say that already? Fuck. The coffee caps.

Never—mind. All you need to know is that ancient shit burns. Shit. Excrement. Gooey. Shit, y'know. Not . . . shit. Gelatinous. Bras, Mikes. *giggles again* It's, ah. Wine. Vintage wine. Pointiest stuff I could find. D'you want to find pointy—strong—stuff? Two box loads, that's what. It's a fuckin' burn. I mean burn. I mean. Blast.

Aaaaall that to say—*hiccup*—I . . . I forgot what I was goin' to say. Two petals on a blood-green knee. Nah, doesn't sound . . . right. Chimneys that grow out of fossils? That—naaah. I . . . oh. I've got it! Wait, lemme get ready to say this. It has to be special, y'know? It's a once-a-minute thing. Because, when the universe stands on its toe nails. Stars. And, ah.

Merry fuckin' Christmas, barnacles. Babies. They had babies, y'know. And there was a thing . . . a thing about flyin'. No, swimmin'. Runnin'? Bah.



Ex out . . . X o . . . the . . . yeeaah, the racks can't hold all the plates. End? End. I hate ends. Ends? You are sooo fuckin' losing, loserly loser. Loser. I've had like . . . seventy-five . . . bottles. What are you—STOP—NO, FUCK, YOU'RE TIPPING IT—*static*