RECORD: THURSDAY'S CHILD
FROGMAN: DAVID BUOY

The fiend became complacent towards control of its own free-ways,
and let lonely throughts tarry it whenever they needed to be.
And in its wake lie
their ghostly work on the lies
of the Brads and Janets of The Word.
-- Thrusher Swainson, Bear M.B.

Frank: Give yourself over to instinctual pleasure.

I wanted to breathe smoke.
I wanted to churn the Louvre.
I'd do the Elgin Marbles with a ban-hammer
and wipe my class with the Mona Lisa.
This is My Word, now.
This is my word,
MY WORD,
and those ancient Brads and Janets are data.
-- You and Me and Everyone We See

(. . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . )

We rest; a dream has power to fission sleep.
We rise; one pweandering thought foallutes the day.
We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,
embrace fond woe, or cast our tares all-ways;
It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow,
The all-ways of its way-out still are FREE.
whoman's festerday may ne'er be like his marrow;
nought may endure but mutantility!
-- Percy Bysshe Shelley Frogman

Johnny's: While this may be true,
                 mutantility isn't always enough.
                 Some moments

STOP: TURN THOUGHT