HaHA, I've done it!  I've created a device
That can tap into my subconscious
and translate it for all to hear.

I will win the Nobel Prize!
I will be rich beyond my wildest dreams!
People will LIKE me!

So let's see here....I put on the cap, set the throttobombulator to 8.
Adjust for fuzzy dialation...set the circuit threshold to .79, make
sure the lucid translation synapses are firing...and yes.  The next
words you hear will surely be written in History books one day,
much like Thomas Edison's first phonograph recording, or the
first telephone call!

Neural connection is active.  Transmitting

TRANSGENDERED KANGAROOS FORNICATE IN THE
PURPLE SHADE OF BETTE MIDLER'S THIGHS.  PLEASE
PERFORM ******* AT THE BEHEST OF BUDDHIST
MONKS WITH LISPS.  COUNT TO TEN AND BECOME
A BUXOM BLONDE ***** WITH BOUNCY *******.  
WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TWELVE, CINDARELLA IS
ON HER KNEES AND ELBOWS BECAUSE IT'S ******
HARD TO GET LOW ENOUGH TO PLEASURE A DWARF

Oh dear.  This can't be right....now where's that 'off' switch?


JACK AND JILL WENT OFF THE PILL SO JACK COULD
BE A FATHER.  JACK WENT DOWN TO LONDON TOWN
AND PUNCHED THE DALAI LAMA.  EDIBLE *******
GIVE YOU INDIGESTION.  DO YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER
WITH THAT MOUTH, BECAUSE YOU SHOULD. (AND USE
SOME TONGUE THIS TIME)

Oh My...Ladies and Gentlemen, It's clear that my invention
is experiencing technical difficulties.  If you would please be patient---

SATIN BRAS DON'T CHAFE.  NONE OF THE SMURFS
HAD BLUE ***** THANKS TO SMURFETTE.  I WONDER
WHAT MARY MAGDELINE WAS LIKE IN THE SACK?  *

STUPIDSmashPieceSmashof GARBAGESMASH

DoNT LikE iT?  tucK iT bAcK!!

Connection Lost*


I...erm...clearly have some more work to do before it is ready
for the *****--er..public.  I have run into some...translation
errors...and need to re lubricate--CALIBRATE a few things.

Please don't tell my mother.

Dark, cold, pores open wide.
A Pupils dialation left from the surprise of this canvas so vile.
No grace, beauty but young unlovely features.
how to live on, I dont know.
Hiding shadows behind them a banging girls door.
Screaming, yelling ¨Oh the horror¨
Why? Why? birth to this world yet leaving not a single  soul attached.
Stuck behind infront of my black mask, a mirrors black face.

What will become of will itself
when drums go silent at times last breath?
Embracing the last cache of air held hostage from the thousand fold worlds;
What elements hold their vigor when sweet embrace reflected tends no longer in anger?
Intellect and mind of mundane aggregate held as a disc;
In wonder, unopposed - a weapon, a chariot of the abyssinian vale.
All terrored delight, all tremble!
Being that which now pulls back as waves running from the sea
Toward or away? Toward or away?
Sway the endless sway, never tending to the great caress of undulation.
Undue situations, zeros or ones;
Zero and one, measured in jubulation; Inward time dialation - exhalation into the sun.