Cerlean Rangers of the Calcified Mummy Wrap

Today I am weighted with the heaviness of my own folly. Had these cables, routers and relays been imbued with light and not fright, the messages might have been heard. But by now it almost seems obvious not to be true. Dissect it, reconstruct it, and use it, but first you must find it. It won’t be long, and I tell you this because in the deep, one must reach to be felt. Valid Jimbo, thy runners are nigh, and hardly long enough. Then you bring rumor of giant-tentacled insects? Not cool. Invasive. Look at Haiti. Or when Ben Stiller got testy at the MTV Movie Awards the year Faye Dunaway gave the award for best sandwich. Melt down Macca’s MTV Breathing Legend Award and make another set of thematic tokens for Beatles Monopoly. After all, Wonder Woman was Diana Something, not Diane von Furstenberg. The jobless 6.5%, Olly Stone and Roman Polanski, the Shroud of Turin, these are all predatory prelude antidote to “Donkey Xote.” And that I defy anyone to deny. Do you hear me, SalivatingDilapidus?