And along came The Spider...

I don't know what you're feeling cause I sure as hell don' know what I'm feelin' but in the end it's about the -ing suffixes in the continuous present of things.

This is a spiritual sort of pastiche an we're gonna give it the best we've got. Here we go!

So I got everything I want, and that is not the point. The point does not even exist anymore. It is no longer poignant for me to describe the feeling I'm feeling because it matters not in the humongous scale and feel and possibly, scheme, of things.

It is my humanity I am trying to deal with now, without turning into a proverbial monster, a man a woman eater, a Grendel who actually kicks Beowulf's ass because let's face it, B. was not a hero, but a fucking ass-hole!

There is more to that because it is not points that need be proven, but more or less the convergence of points, the connections, the routes, trajectories, the bullet time and the estimated time of arrival. Which is a picture of a picture of a picture anyway, as the gentlemens and scholars say... Tits!

So. I'm definetly a friend of mine and of ours who is them... So who is them? And do they have dental? Because if I'm going to invest myself into something they sure as hell better invest in me or I'm going to the fucking competition!

But, reclining to the lordliness that they are, it is better to remain a modest man and a promising specimen! I am broke! But rich in many ways...

So let's talk about gold-fish and Alladin's lamp, the flying carpet and Sheherezahd's boobies, the aftertaste of opium and hemp undergarments that get stuck between the butt-cheeks... My Christmas came early this life, 'cause I was a good little plant and appreciated the dirt I was born in.

So my question is not why me? Answer: because you EARNED IT!!! But, how am I supposed to grow it even further, being cool and talking about the Gizeh Plateau while serving a plateau of woman and her smiles?

Comicry is the answer. Nobody fucks with the Jester because somebody likes him. Fine! I'll be a jester for a while. It's winter anyway and I work on my day off so I must be a big fat joke to many people by now! Yes! I understand that! As a metaphor of the picture of the picture of man-breasts.

Whoever has a healthy sense of humor in the amoral sense, and by god man! that is the closest thing to a goddess' breasts any man-god has ever come before hearing the inevitable - What are you thinking right now!

Nothing my dear! And she smiles, blows smoke rings between her breasts and bakes him an eclaire. That's livin' the Life.

And as we seagull ourselves into a more joculant stance of affairs, I'm just wondering how much bush is bush to a goddess? Just putting that out there! That's a better question-answer than: do you have dental? on a Monday afternoon. Because she'll probably be all rhetorical about shit even when she'll let me find out, so YES!!!

It's enjoying the little things. They make up the big picture.

Peace!