Randal's not home in this version.
No, he's not speaking in the third person;
you have reached his answering machine.
After scrubby dubby nice n' clean,
encephalitic noodlery ensued:
read his Frenchie presentation and booed,
the same for poesie script and chewed
on the fat that was self-inflicted destructive criticism, due soon.
So for today, no Prestidigitarianism --
what? 'tis my new religion. Come join, start tithing. Beep.