Time to get the lead out and by lead I mean Lemmy Winks.

I love me some Lemmy Winks, possible one of my favorite animated characters ever.

So comfortably numb, eh?

I’m a robot

I’m a robot juicer

I’m at work

I’m a robot juicer at work

I’m doing work at work

I’m doing work as a robot juicer

I’m doing karaoke. I’m singing Gundam Style. My body flaps around like a paper bag in the wind. I’m watching Chernobyl Diaries. I’m eating vanilla yogurt. I’m drinking diet caffeine free Mountain Dew. I’m bungee jumping off a shoe box in my garage. I’m sticking my fingers in a toilet bowl. I’m breathing in what I’m breathing out. I’m pretending to stuff olives in my knee caps.

I’m eating a whole pizza after whipping your tongue with steel wool for an hour.

I’m buying a new vacuum just form my privates so I can video chat with a high school friend who is overseas who I haven’t talked to in 10 years as I try it out for the first time.

I’m licking strange feathers I find in the forest.

I’m staring at you while I have the cast of Willow whip your unconscious body with blood orange licorice.

I’m asphalting my drive way and by asphalting I mean using my neighbors bodies ground up with tar and refrigerators.

Some people climb mountains, well I climb my own mind seeking emotion as I run frantically from one cotton ball lined hallway to the next screaming but nothing comes out but projectile cotton candy streams, my silver laser eyes dance, they dance for Lemmy Winks and far right republicans who smoke cigars of democracy and spit the meat stuck between their teeth at the poor and unsalvageable iron hulks of old tanker ships washed on shore after their bodies disintegrated from the unequal intentions of a ship architect named Shifty McNazzty who got his degree at WhatDEgreeYouWantfor5bucks.edu, dance and make no sense, the world is as pointless as pants at a Bill Clinton convention, I’m surprised he doesn’t have tailhook tattooed on his sack. Ban it ban it to hell and to heaven, it’s an old fashioned rant of death, dying, drugs, mac and cheese and a fuller brush man! DAMN YOU FULLER BRUSH MAN AND YOUR WOMANMONGERING WAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s the sea weed, or ganja with a sweet briny lingering after taste, like French kissing a mermaid or maybe letting her dunk you, dunk you very much into the secret cave, business in the front party in the back of my mind oh hell yeah it’s hammer time in zombie land as we dance for monkey pillows, purple monkey pillows I love them like I love candy and sugar and whiskey, no grape whiskey bubble gum, no no Dylan has lost his voice, a victim of too much fun in the throat….