BOMBS IN THE OCEANS
MISSILES IN THE SKY
ALL THE FISH ARE FLOATING
ALL THE PEOPLE DEAD.
UNDER-WATER TITLE-WAVES TAKING US DOWN
THEY ATTACK FROM UNDER-GROUND.
BLAY KARTOYSA ZERT CHOW COFF
I SING YOU A SONG RITING THE WRONG I SING OUT THE GAME POISONING YOUR SKY
THEY WANT YOU TO DIE.
BLAY KARTOYSA ZERT CHOW COFF.
GOATAY QUALLA GOATAY QUALLA
KNOCKING YOU OUT FROM UNDERGROUND
SPILLING THE OCEANS
FLOODING THE EARTH
BLAY KARTOYSA ZERT CHOW COFF
BLAY BE GOATAY QUALLA/ THE MISSILE BLOWING TYCOON
I don’t know who I am anymore it’s been a long many years at I have known myself, I am forgotten.
I remember where I left myself way back there all alone. I as well walked away from myself, giving in others, listening to them telling me how I’m always wrong, that I don’t know what I’m doing.
I ended up in a world where I didn’t belong. I didn’t know how to exist with others. I put myself alone stepping forward to be someone else anyone else just to fit in society. I found I was better off alone.
Then One day I remembered my old self and I wondered, why are you still standing there. What would you be doing now? What made me leave you. I can only go forward but into what? I nothing of this world. Technology and multiple cultures racing against time to end the world. I stayed sheltered living inside myself forgetting the world forgetting the people, growing older getting gray getting fat getting flabby overweight try to lose weight where did I go it’s to late, I’m way back there.
THANK-YOU WORDPRESS FOR HAVING A WONDERFUL CREW TO WORK FOR YOU.
Like I have stated in the past, that working with a triple minded personality is not easy. Though I am not harmful, I am twice behind certain things.
When I do catch-up I like to say thank-you for sticking it out with me. Constance I S F Taylor. I am sorry that I must laugh after the realization of this things hit home base.
With whom? This is still unknown. But I can say behind both doors will be a bowl of crow. Supper will be flighty.
I’M IN BOTH DOORS // THANK-YOU WORDPRESS PEOPLE
Aprons have been in our world from the beginning of time, after the caveman, after clothes were invented. After Women found the only clothes they had were getting ruined. That’s when the idea of fashioning a piece of garment to cover clothes. Now the apron is dirty and the clothes are still presentable.
Aprons come in many colours many designs many sizes even coming rubber plastic some come in silk or satin really it would be your choice. And with our new design the woman on the go can wear her apron everywhere she goes.
Hello, hello. I tried this before working creating scribbling and more. Days with no food nights with no sleep, pacing and screaming pounding my head but no thoughts to remind me just what I said.
Hello hello perfect world I’m in trouble has found me wasting within. Scratching clawing finding a way out, standing so still looking about and everything is not coming up roses. It’s cow poop.
Oh bother e-mail address.
I had a nice E-mail address then it was compromised. Change it they said. Sure that easy. No! Not easy. I forgot the password thinking I was given one of those unflawable memories where everything I jot down will be embedded to my forefront memory bank. This is not so, I have nothing! I remember nothing. And no it is not written down to be stolen.
But due to this fault of mine everything continues to be sent to this dead E-mail box. How can this new password update be changed? Why do I not have an alternate e-mail box option to send this change email!
Screaming inwards not to frighten my own self. At this point all I can say is I should have printed out a copy then filed it.
But really in the end I broke my internet connection and can not fix it. Why do I do these things to me.
Tea and croissant. What kind of trip is this do you say? Why a French trip today. Croissant croissant. We have good butter. Butter on a crusade you say? But of course, only the best all the way from somewhere else not French. Optishion, FRANCE. I tell you not even PARIS or ROME.
The butter for the crusade to put on top the croissant comes from the peak of the ALPS of SWISS mountains. Little people with the nanny-goats. They sit there with the tiny chair doing this all day., [pretend you are milking a cow]. We tell you happily we do this import to please your palate
”Excuse me. Can I ask how this butter is made?”
But of course not, your croissant is getting cold the butter will not stick, the crusade will be a disappointment, Moi Professor will put the cold pea soup down my rubber-boot to answer your question. Please take the word of a French-crusade man to allow the story to go on take your butter for your croissant. But if you prefer mister, there can be a little tete-a-tete after the ride.
Tea. We can offer you the best tea from the ALPS of PERU. But of course Peru we offer this magnificent tea to you for the croissant on this crusade. The tea for your croissant will wet your appitite for more butter that is exported by donkeys down many treacherous mountain paths-ways to reach you this day for your crussade.
“Do Peruines even drink coffee?”
I tell you one more time mistuer. You must leave this vouyge at once!
“But I just”…Now I tell you again. You will lose your croissant! Take her butter! Now I tell you this crusade is ca-put.
Banana pancakes anyone. But of course.