Scum both sides of the synapse. Regretting trying to calm it
down with a flyswatter. View stretches out from trepan
hole in skull to National Geographic in lap. Mashing pie into
face does not really stop leaking. After all this effort, skeleton of
dinosaur reconstructed. Then bumped over by goddamned monocycled
monkey. One membrane – the one that would be responsible for all of
dinosaur's orgasms – is a pretty good imitation of a table cloth.
Hear death by bringing it back to life. Prior to discovering
amazing sadistic power, thought waterboarding pet mouse pretty metal.
Either bad case of tinnitus or literal ear worm slowly trying
to forge mist patches in peripheral hearing? Trying to remain
distracted by reading stupid National Geographic article: at Hogwarts,
in one of the teachers' bidets, a fossil was embedded in the old,
shit-stained porcelain. After team of geologists carefully pried it free
and turned it over, they discovered inevitable Made in Germany label.
What strong affinity between weird fossil and old sock!
Ah and oh the bloody wind that blows from hole in skull –
whiskers have long since been severed by icy airflow facilitated
by aerodynamics of head. In these and many other respects skull = not perfect.