What if a thing?

What if the thing were Thursday and the Thursday it was green but not just any green but kind of a red and it had a doorknob. Now, the thing with doorknobs is they twist left, but they also twist left, but also right.

And remember, this is Thursday. But not just any Friday.

And behind this door it spins on the side, and you're facing the door again. And you're facing you! And you ask yourself an unanswerable and the answer is when you give it your answer your your face pinches and swirls in on itself like water drainign from the tub.

Still Thursday.

What would you?

Ourboss and Rakaruk plant a party and I was there and so was Ourboss and I ate his tail and now I'm Ourboss and nobody eats my tail because I'm Ourboss and I plant a party.

For YOU!

Well the thing is that typewriter is typing the monkey. Our keystrokes reach back into us. We only respond to each word said as its causal ripples backward in time from the moment of impact. Oranges, likewise, are already peeled. We simply help dress the anti-orange as it prepares for a date with its tree. The tree will turn it green and suck the life from it. This is why the order of operations does like it is.

no one answered my question

I would if I could open a yellow door to my infinite soul with my 1 eye blind to red and the other blind to green, be disappointed with finiteness, and like a commoner wait for the friday that tomorrow might bring.

I've managed to depress myself. Thanks a lot.

Finite in the fi nite is black only and blue and with the eyes the knife fight can be won. The tomorrow the Friday brings is the Saturday left on the bus past the last station so they all went home but the bus was there for him. The wheels on the bus go very understandingly. It will rain later today.

If k-nite is OK, Tom might try to relax while the french are bashing robbed new alkaline batteries.

why do you bring such names of shame to the land of ponies and flowery meadows

It was a moment of weakness and desperation. Besides I'd already mentioned elsewhere that I was allergic to pollen. I don't suppose I get to ride any of the ponies here. Masterov might be interested, right after he's done doing chess.

That was the pollen again I tell u

Anyone can ride the ponies if they're pure at heart and are at least as tall as the yellow stick over there.

That stick. The one there.

I refuse to be measured against a yellow stick. Ponies are great but principles are principles.

i tame sheepdogs, then ride them like xena the warrior princess, holding aloft the bob marley flag.

Clarity is for windows, and the windows in my house are for looking through of looking toward themselves and to the others. This is a grave miscalculation, but you have to push the buttons really hard to make the contact so the addition happens on time and off the floor. When open, the draft is within ourshelves which has a the trophy to success. This is how you nonviolently beat the system.

go on....

Well, I like cheeseburgers, too. But I slice them lengthwise down the meat and flip both halves so the meat is outside and the bun is on the inside because that just seems fair. I also evert my stomach through my throat and wrap it around the cheeseburger before drawing it back inside myself, because the food already went through so much trouble to be prepared, I should meet it halfway. Again, only fair.