a good slip out of reality there is no mars like the applecart i’d have expected better of the aliens, especially coming from mars, though nothing is better than a big venus, unless you count the louver, or the premeditated violence, and failing to eat tomatoes. nothing more boring than a dead battery, even mice would know a sudden and most falling up down thing, never like there was a big dragon, with sideburns or funny little teeth that eat sideways on the big frog of life, if there was indeed a better form of gibberish, which, is hard to know, or even, eat rapid ducks of no nonsense cash crops in asia, that fuel cars, but not very well. smoke and rivers, dolphins with no squeak, let’s be random idots, with no need of stupid fones, or paragraphs, or one eyed snakes, or three eyed cameras, or avant-garde nostrils, or fuckme bloody sideways, me old mucker, you big fart on the breath of the breath of fart my wonking wanky wanker wankwankywanky wanky, oh yes i’d like one of those madam, with your great breasts bigger than anything possible my old spanky spank. oh wow, do me a kipper breakfast, don’t make me make the spanky spank spank. ah ha! television, is a no nonsense pile of old shite, and big fat potatoes of oblivion. oblivion runs true, old, old, yes, lets be that, lets not be that, or, lets be nothing. lets be dead, lets be d e a d