Kiss the Birdseed Off My Feathers

Initiate a private conversation between myself and the Eye:

What kind of truth is that?

It’s correspondent in a future-changeable coherent personal type of reality, where the future in this case is enough evidence to degrade a charge of insanity. I say that’s a D. I hope it looks like a DC “dee” to you, or will, and then have had toe the line…

Got it.

Initialize downforce, open 270 to input, see 360, hang up the suit.  Enter the balance.  270 reads.


Happy cherry day.  I mean 720.

You just exchanged my head with a cat’s.  Parse and recover.

Horizontalizing, pixels to nine, patchwork reality.

My mic cord looks like a snake.

It’s temporary.  Do you want us to send in the nanorobots?

Right.  Cone of silence.


You can’t bother anyone in an empty room.  But, I don’t like some of my moves.  I shoved my mattress toward the wall with my knee.  If you do things to people, like karate chops, people don’t like seeing you practice.  It’s like driving if you show off.  “Are you Clay Rigozzoni, leadfoot?”  So, I was up top, and, my knee was down from here, and, I focused my anger on it.  It hurt, though.  There’s a nightstand jutting out.  It looks too low, but no, it fits the knee.  I banged it there.  It is not how fast the corner of the wood is moving; it is not moving at all relative to the doorway.  But, it’s the position.

The same thing is true with time travel.  There is no travel.  There never can be any travel.  Time doesn’t have travel in it, space does.  So, going over the same stretch of time in a time machine many times will not wear out the fabric of space time.  At least, I think it won’t.  But, how does an idea, “travel” from one mind to another?

Well, a time machine has to come with a computer.  You’d arrive in the time location you want to affect, apply the change, observe the new sequence of events, and hit paradox #1: There’s no memory left of the original sequence of events.

In fact, a guy sits there burned today, and, I am responsible because people work for me on my time machine and one of them flared up.  He was saying, and I’m paraphrasing: IF PEOPLE LISTEN TO YOU THEY ARE GOING TO CATCH ON FIRE.  So, the present had a pinhole leak and all that got fed into the tape drive was THAT THEY ARE GOING TO CATCH ON FIRE.  I know, it’s a little sketchy.  I need a name for the input device inside the time machine, the place that hums when the numbers crunch.  I think I need a shredder for the past.  That’ll make a whine like a wood chipper.

The dude is so burned that it is not even on the internet yet.  I mean, he burned so quickly that it hasn’t happened yet.  I got a hint from the news.  Two of those gases are helium and methane.  One was “liquid”.  Was it liquid oxygen?

I don’t think I want my time machine held together with rubber bands and cellophane tape.  I just don’t.

No, that reminds me of how my wife talks.  She says, “that” in front of everything.  She does not say, “You come in here with your two-inch penis and rich chocolate cake.  It’s going on my hips!”

No, she’ll say, “That you come in here.”

I go, “And?  Speak, woman.  I have a subjective clause.  And, what am I supposed to do with it?”

“That we don’t get Child’s Protective Services involved.”

“You sound like Thomas Jefferson.  Domestic tranquility and death, to be perfectly definitive.”

“No, that these jeans make my butt look fat.”

“I know everything.”

“You say ‘no’?”

“My lips say no but my eyes say yes.”

My elephant mind never forgets.

Shifting gears now manually, because, a time machine will have a remote.  It’s a convertible, so, you can set it and it’ll “fly” off (I mean, it’ll disappear).  Or it’s a convertible.  A remote would mean it could be a hardtop.

I don’t get a shifting automatic.  I take the slamming of the clutch plates when the momentum’s engaged.

What’s a slingshot time machine?  Well, a slingshot drag racer begins to look like a dragonfly, but, two dragonflies dock together, investigate third dragonflies, and, cover a large swath of ground by flying a gridded search pattern.

I dropped into a site warp.  I was going to say 500, I think they say 300, but, they say the beatles evolved 300 million years ago.  That’s unkind.  I remember Rubber Soul like yesterday.  They also called it “invisigate”.  Is that something like Watergate?  The argument is an investigation of the invisible.  But, it’s absurd.  Do you know who I am?

Cockroaches, The Beatles, and silverfish did not co-evolve.  That’s something Rod Stewart did.


As far as using Alum to contract muscles goes, there are no reported cases of this ever working, and there are no cases nowadays where it is used as such. I think we can therefore safely assume, without wishing to conduct an experiment, that Alum simply does not contract the vagina in any way, however you apply/take it.

“Fearless Fosdick, His Life and Deaths” (1956), features Fearless Fosdick, Li’l Abner’s “Ideel” and Al Capp’s satire of Dick Tracy and contemporary modernity in general.  In this collection, Fosdick shoots his way through four outrageous stories (and a number of innocent bystanders): “The Case of the Atom Bum, or Kiss the Purple off My Lips;” “Sidney the Crooked Parrot, or Kiss the Birdseed off My Feathers;” “The Poisoned Bean Case, or Kiss the Ketchup off My Hands;” and “The Case of the Chippendale Chair, or Kiss the Blood off My Springs.”  Published by Simon and Schuster.  First printing.  86 pages, B&W, 8-in. x 10.75-in., newsprint interior with cardstock cover, $1.00 cover price. Cover price $1.00.


abe lincoln could care less about losing meth money to mexicans Says:
Wed, 31 Aug 2011 11:51:38 +0000 at 11:51 am | Reply   edit

I can’t help when idiots expose themselves.

To ask how hot plates go bad and call oneself a scientist.  You write about “click chemistry”, so the hot plate in question would not be a lab grade hot plate but obviously the one made for home cooking (of food)….they run on electricity….they go bad with age…..real scientists, people called engineers designed them you know.

Your other poster proved my point on the other error. At least you got it right that the dope is not in the water…BUT notice the suzy is at the top and not the bottom…go figure…that is ALWAYS how ether floats with water….chemist?   if you can’t read the short acetate post and catch that, you are a reason we need english as an official language and you need to get more “hands on” again.  Even someone who’s never cooked before knows ether floats…it’s called READING.

At least you weaseled out of the high production guy’s questions. God help him if you blow him up with your click chemistry and open containers.


One Response to “Kiss the Birdseed Off My Feathers”

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