Lint Linea Especial

Adam's apple skybound, I waited for the crossing the guard to say something funny with her hands. Ha, she did. Let's check the sleepcam for more conclusive evidence. Yep, there he is, ok, notice he's got the mouth completely shut, breathing through the nose. Ok, we have some strained neck muscles, ok, good. Let's have a look inside:

Visiting hours have commenced. It's visiting time. If you preface a conversation with "I may be reading too much into this, but...," is the conversation really worth having? I mean, then again...oooh, that reminds me mind of a song I learned while buffin' me shamrock!...Oh, we ole hacks, have donned the caps, spun sticks in mugs, and with shovels plugged, forging songs of our father's cries. Fat man's fabled cane, to the grave he limps, rolls o'er the pitch, slows down to catch, and sings songs of his lonely nights. In the blacklit hall, his soul leaps out, yes it kneels then crawls, to the room of gold, recalling songs o' the ancient band. Just. Like. Matterhorn high, where lightning hides, a summit's sigh! The blare of man's deep chords! The heartbeat's song of pride!

Meaningful interaction with humankind still pending...progress, Congress - pros and cons, are you seeing what I'm seeing? Agape! I'll have a run then smoke, it's a twisted crime. Surrender, surrender, you're in a tunnel now, there's no way out we've got both exits covered, you have nowhere to go, give yourself up. Never! Lo, a moist puddle at his feet. Dopa. Po' Mitah Rajah Clemens. Meina.

Someone once taught me that the phrase, "To be honest," is an empty and borderline subversive preface. When we say it, it's like, at its most benign (even, productive), "Listen, I'm about to take my pants off in the cold and let you aim darts at my crotch." To the extremely cynical, paranoid listener, however, "To be honest" signals some kind of cue that previous statements did not fall under the honest umbrella. We can disguise this problem by using phrases like, "frankly" or "candidly" or "with all due respect."

Reina, reina de los niños. Cielo, arriba de mi vida. Cuerpo, sin fuerza y sin razon. El 'bullet' tren, de Francia al San Sebastian. I saw something funny earlier but it's kind of mean-spirited and the wrong person could take it the wrong way, but uh...maybe I read too much into it. I saw a young man, a colleague of mine in information technology, a South Asian with scraggly black hair, wearing a white shirt and a red tie, stirring some sugar into a cup of Dunkin' Donuts brand coffee in the cafeteria. With all due respect, there's nothing humorous about that scene at all. You can eat anything you want! You can eat anything you want!

What they told me I could keep...puh...I thought it meant I could actually keep those things, you know? But no, they came in and took everything, they broke all my statues, they tore down my drapery, they broke my glass cabinets...puh...I'm just beside myself on this one...uh huh huh huh. Hush little Lacey don't say a word, Papa's gonna buy you a pit bull, and if that pit bull's mind doesn't work, Papa's gonna buy you a gated community with 24 hour surveillance, and if that gated community has a narcoleptic security guard, Papa's gonna buy you a sharp chef's knife, and if you can't get to the knife in time, Papa's gonna read his monthly, $119/yr, business school magazine.

I've got it, we'll do a pilot - ouch is that a spear in my neck? What do you mean "Get over here?" Stop bugging me. Ouch, I think you've speared my neck with your harpoon throw. Ouch, oh, are you dragging me towards you? Uh, you're an animal, and that javelin thing is vaguely evocative of, of...(galactic tone) - pretty pictures of pretty people on the mantle of my home, in the great room, with the molding so gaudy and dust-prone, my little kiddies play with CAD software and say, "Daddy daddy, 'look what we built!'" A giant fortress, with great stone walls, and a moat strong 'neath the tower, they have instincts...that they've adapted, and I'm proud to be their, ahem...a partner!

[censored anecdote]

A small desert fox approached the lip of the canyon, the little fellow looked towards the sky and placed himself among the stars. "I need to fasten my little safety belt while I'm up here taking in the river fumes." When the little guy jumped he instinctively curled into a foxball (ball 'o fox). The higher he jumped the more forward flips he performed. There was a specific formula for this animation, and I'm sure the developers at Sega could fill you in. When he jumped into the canyon, however, the foxball did not touch the river at the bottom for a good seven minutes, you see, the foxball is quite light.