My butler has been howling at the moon, cavorting with phantoms, harvesting the worm pods, and generally freaking out for the last several days in the back yard at nightfall. He is overwhelmed with feelings, special feelings, sad feelings. He claims that I am draining his supply of positivity and now he is deficient as in zero calvin Kevlon. Yes. His poop pellets are piling up and destroying the harmony of Nature and order and beauty, forming little walls that curve back and forth amidst the dirt. He digs for worms, their pods, mimicking their inchy ways while splaying his limbs, crouching, and turning his feet this way and that. He pisses on an old gray tarp. It is a horrid sight to behold. I am threatening him with a trip to trepannation station, but without him in a lucid state I am not sure where to find it (when we do the minddance). Daylight is better, but I do not trust my butler. The coffee is stale, his eyes are topsy turvy. We've been down a similar path before. It's gotta be the crack. He's hanging out with the J man again.
Note: I am fearful. existence is threatened. Can anyone find the bridge... to trepannation station?
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8 comments:
I already gave you 3 rocks.
honestly, I am also feeling very off. The lure of human flesh meat is suddenly appealing. I'd also like to scratch some open wounds and peel back their bloody interiors revealing the red blobiness I have come to love. I will move with a cripple-like affectation because my limbs feel like expressing themselves in this way. MM was the spirit guide here. He plied me with lord meat and I partaketh of the grace bestowed upon me with voraciousness. I can smell the iron.
Keep your dirty ozone air away from me you cheap whorelet mz. c. think about the brain. you are becoming one with the piles.
by the way, you only gave me one, you spastic colon.
Fairy, you are truly a feral butler today. Who is this mysterious J man? I am sneezing my life away. You are threatening with trepanation and I think you need to steer clear of this dangerous practice. The hole in your brain that will culminate the ritual is a hole that will allow leakage of precious moments from your mind party. Please tread with the utmost caution, allow the numbing to pass through your legs and form mirrored facets around your head instead of grisled flesh wounds. You will deflect invasions of the putrid kind.
I am threatening my butler with a hole in the head to release his howling spirit only. Unless he calms down soon, of course. I would, however, like to awaken my third eye. (not down there). ok.
HP,
I am sorry to hear you are suffering from the offs as well. I am feeling better now that I have feasted, but I fear the return of symptoms soon. I must avoid the rocks.
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