autoclog paste! oh toad! brawl le sand! glyco-alco cinnamoan, yah. even if it takes three weeks to digest the shapelessness of a full grown 90 degree angle between mist and assumption. by the ankles! dripping with an opus! there is a grandfather clock at the bottom of the ocean. a sturgeon dashes out of it, snacking on the guppies of time, stethoscope around its neck. oh, did i say sturgeon? i meant doctor. 020620 what's it to you? who go blather from