The Duchess posts the sacred, yours truly posts the profane.
♪ MY LOVE FOR YOU IS LIKE A TRUCK BERSERKER
WOULD YOU LIKE TO CLANK THAT MONK BERSERKER ♫
Lulled to calm, propulsive waves wash in, tossed & crashing like a longship in the North Sea, good times. Though what a misleading title, I'm just a mellow cat who longs to zone out, zapped with a zzzz IV.
Variations on one theme this is, yabba dabba's doo doo, but you know what the agitprop office says, loose lips sink guided missile cruisers.
On the other hand, Pooty's ex-Puppet's livejournaling, on the dismembered hand, Pooty's KGB Tales is invite only.
Zombie Proust cries at such weak paragraphing.
Do zombies dream of electric tears, or just chomp chomp chomp?
Ponder this string of developments I must; being dumb, one at a time.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Berserker sleep now
Posted by Randal Graves at 8:33 AM
Labels: bloggy goodness, music, narcissism
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8 comments:
I'm guessing "chomp chomp chomp".
~
Well some of us drift of into slumberland like that ethereal rock-a-by tree top kid while others crash like the pinochle of a drug crazed bender brat. Take your pick. Just don't eat me bro.
Graves, you swine!
You broke into Peggy Noonan's liquor cabinet and you didn't invite us?
For shame!
Regards,
Tengrain
if, place your bets at the Space Casino.
demeur, we're doomed. DOOMED.
tengrain, are you mad? Brave the wrath of the Undead Raygun?
Yabba Dabba's doo doo? Yuck, that's what those poor cave men keep stepping in.
Do zombies dream of electric tears, or just chomp chomp chomp?
Less worried about zombies now since Brad Pitt's zombie flick "World War Z" is reported to be as bad a movie as John Carter and Battleship combined.
I no longer worry about zombies now I've found a home in the uncanny valley.
tom, especially after the pelican quit.
BB, directed by Michael Bay.
susan, bet Mr. Data could beat her at Strategema.
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