October 6, Entry 10

ERRRGGGHHH!!! Herm. The randomness of life is like a small aisle of jelly sauce. Why do dwarven suns relive the epic battle of shower? Alas! The shark has eaten my foot-light. By the dark of the navel I realize that no, the fjords are not the start of existence! But in the cold light of Hawaii's cucumbers, I find that glove plus monkey equals G-chord on the piano of everlasting xylophones. Never again shall I long fo the warm blanket of cotton candy, but relish the joys of the black outline that is my butterscotch soul. The man sits there on the roof of my post-it store, crying to himself, "Why, oh why did I forget my pet three-toed sloth's favorite flavor of honey? He rests now like that area of Arkansas where the street is most purple." As I listen to this man's solemn cry, I think of how I, too, have lost my former sloth's love, becuase of my only fault: the inexorable solidness of my neon carpet. He fell from the balcony of the 398th floor, only to survive, mangled in a pile of old bull spleens. The only beginning is the end of the beginning of the end of the komodo dragon.