If This Doesn't Help, Nothing Will.

 

Those who I know are involved have been waiting to witness the placement of a curated dream on a delicious board. The routine variants puncture our sleep in a weak imitation of landing in a misappropriated cove. The lighting gives way and now we sink and sway to the tin-hearted sounds of a melodious removal. We believe that at least some of the stagehands will stand and fight but continue to nurse doubts about the staying power of those without a controlled fiber. For those in need, a connection to a fabricated ribcage can be concealed for about the cost of a moderately priced cup of coffee per day. Speaking of which, why does it always seem to be the unlikeliest member who is called on to supply our most under appreciated tasking foe with his or her own laminated febrantic cording wreck?

Yes, it's true that we often take turns guessing. But it's very important to understand  that as the occasion of our group funeral approaches, we each, in our own special way, will need the approval of a cribbed applicant before receiving clearances from the Topmost House. In my own way, I endeavour to increase the tolerance of internal drippage for most of the altered turncoats. Now and then one will approach a newly imbued celebrant and hound him or her to provide a rationale for full scale recalibrations of our libidinal co-sports. I will bring an imported list in my flange and hope for the best. She will gently peel away the now useless cells as I try to maintain an impressively statuesque upheaval. If you or anyone hears my voice assuming an increasingly gray songtone, you are to lightly grip your personal solinoid and train a pustulating tractor beam on our ovarian Manterclé. Once you've complicated your oath of obversion with a lemon-scented hamkerwipe, then no one will deny you your final extruded pellet. The only action that we can recommend is to sit near a specified plant, memorize a scant list of yogic breathing patterns and greet some of the Brothers with a roundly fatuous Marnie Carson joke. That should do the trick. (Don't count on it.)

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