Poland Springs and the Smogglewoffs, something about eternity.

Acacia wood.

So, not just gay, but a "berzerker", kind of a gay that gives other gays a bad rep with the Methodists, yer know?  Not just a correspondent, but a by-God Elton John Ken Anderson of a somebody.  Not just gay, but sopped, and dripping in it.

But not all.

And we had an ontological query earlier, our understanding, not of being, but the world, not of Being In The World, Dasein, but the world itself, the realm physic.

Of ourselves, what do we understand?  Eat hot chips, be bi-sexual..... same old same old, and I reckon the tribulations of today will see an end, but our souls twinge eternal, Cheevers.

Actualized Co-efficient of reality, the smogglewoffs of infinity, like little turpentine fingerprints left behind as a remnant of the mysterious doings of a spell of black-out drunkenness.

As James said, "I don't know what life can be...."

"I feel like it has something to do with hauling junk cars to the steel mill."

And that was, for him, a thing.

Acacia wood, as it were, perhaps protected, its own bodyguards, being perhaps, the fretboard of some great stringed instrument, and Poland Springs, yer know, and the not talking about of the talking about, and believe me, plenty to talk about, inches of vellum, as it were, to be left in the dispatch.

We went from Poulard Mauney to Poland Springs, and, not dizzy from the transition, we are perhaps, writing our on things, but not on vellum, but encoding somehow in the various strings of eternity.

To improve our cellphone, one thing, but to improve man?  Indeed, Ecclesiastes 12, we can only enjoy our own fruits, big and with light fur, we can only enjoy this, and give praise to our maker.

We traverse from thing to thing, looking for the right thing, until something falls, Plinko style, through the mechanism, and the tumblers begin to switch and turn, and the whole thing resembles something like life,

and by God, we got ourselves a blog piece, and eternity done its due diligence.