They were lost, and it wasn't funny anymore, they were really lost this time. 'Where's your chevroley Gavin.' 'I don't know Jeep, I sucked it up into my mouth and lost it.' Confused and bothered he decided he'd start a tin band, and no one would get invited to play. It's true that these people had feathers all over their knees, and should have known that having a heart attack was not 'the Jewish thing to do.' So they built a camp, with four posts, tried it, got lost in it, and they had a tree house.
Suddenly he asked his wife to marry him. Without asking he said the words quite clearly to someone who wasn't there, and then asked an earwig to translate it to his girlfriend who wasn't there either. Everyones a winner! It was heaven in the dairy farm, Gav wondered if the pigs were really pigs, or if they were trying to dodge the shifts and look for some real criminals.
So as it was four o clock and no one had done the ironing yet, a bull volunteered itself but fell off the edge before he had the chance and the elves took him away again. Back to his hide-away in the sea. Where it felt sunny sometimes, but he wasn't happy. Gav wondered why Jeep wasn't happy. But Jeep wouldn't tell him. 'Why aren't you happy jeep?' said Gav in a steep voice. 'I wasn't Gav.' said Jeep sadly, 'But I will be when I haven't got anymore chewing gum.' he insisted. 'It's annoying me. I'm fed up with it.' 'Oh I see,' said Gav correctly and in English. 'Bummer.' And they felt a great wind blow and a golden sweet strange energy lifting them away from where they belonged to the only place they thought they couldn't be.
Here were the people they knew, and a carvery so sumptuous it could be good for an army of giants. There was Larry, Craig, Sven, Speedy George, and amounst others 'Barry the Nail Cotsworth,' who could make a mean spaghetti. They charmed each other but found no solace. It was weird to be together again after all that time, and if they didn't build a house i'd be damned if they didn't do it again. It was so engrained into them that they would build a house whether anyone liked it or not. Houses in places I don't understand yet. Yep that's right, up there, in the sky. Now, as people looked into the sky it looked like a bullet. But there was acne on that bullet that laid surruptisiously in the facts behind his horse. That was not cracking in the cold. And stepped out of it's bank, to scramble the feet of the poor. He was devastated by his losses. And shook the figures until they broke out of his bracelets, and he was suddenly aware of the moores where he and Kathy used to roam. It was not far from Rome. They would be there tomorrow. Sadly no, they had been on a train for a while and didn't have the table tennis training everyone so observes in the here and now.
'Joking,' said Sven. 'I listed that building in 87, It was the gift from the angry ones.' Now whenever Larry spoke he failed to put words together nicely. He spaced his words like Islands drifting from the middle.'The time was ok then properly how the stage managed..uh...yeah?' 'Cotsworth wants to speak,' said Cotsworth. 'No,' chanted the rest. 'Even in the darkness, when the lime cold in the roads errodes, this is the creature of the damp, this is the monster of the sea,' the group of these chaps would chant this out of their nature. Speedy George was blind in one eye and they all felt that doing this made it easier for him. It wasn't long before the whales had changed the borders and no drinks were left. 'I'm feeling ill,' said Jeep and with that they all slept, for ten hours and five minutes. Cotsworth did remark by the way, that he was feeling so alive. And perhaps he might be okay for making some jokes.
The people that carry stuff sometimes are having a nice time. People that divide up the money sometimes drop their cutlary when eating. All the people that are thinking of the next hour or so are less poor emotionally than the people that tread carefully but also behave like a parody of intelligence. Somehow they never have anything to say. This is what the moon feels like.
It's about time I told you that the Quarry is a faith based machine that uses the momentum of space to bring forth the attitudes of stone, to be futher away than the instincts that change them, they remain unchanged. I have been in the questions of paper and it's requiem through the blotches of time. In it's naked true self, it is a nifty statue. Who's even bothered about questions when the answers have to be serious before the question was made. Cotsgrove made the effort to try and irradicate those issues because he considered it irrellevant. He closed off his computer in due course and abided with the window cill. Four metres over and black as his thorny ear ache. Seven floors up they were planning something without him. As though all his life he was waiting for a chance but never got invited. 'Oh please,' he whispered to the woman with the dog earings, but the answer came clear and loud. 'No,' it said with averaging patience. 'And why?' I asked myself as the door closed, 'does no one come in here anymore?' It occurred to them after all their hard work, if no one had bothered, it was because they were making it too difficult. The sum of their parts were too extravagent for the means of their accuracy. And by half, they were fools. They were fools to have asked, and unsurprisingly they watched the splinter grow.
Suffocated by her own superficialty there was a groan, and they had begged it to stop but it just kept going as though sufficed by its temperament. It seemed clever and by jove, in part she was well pleased by the giving of thrupence for a canieving witt, in her see through scarf and four horse shoes was her pride. To be precise there had been no wonder in their house. John Malcovic had left them on the streets begging for pennies and the croupiers had had their last. People changed the laws with tremendous gaps everywhere. The more strict they became, the more cavernous the gap was. And Peter died that day. Happily and with a smile he sailed backwards into the chewy land of butter and jam. Brave as a chimp and bold as a kangaroo. Such is love, that God may smite you and beget the fortress of your genetic paradigm so fully that there aint no basket left. Climb it or not, there aint no basket left.
Hurriedly he returned from the alleyways to claim back sanctuary in the house of captain Beethoven. People showed respect in its purist samples because he laid so qiuetly in a bed of roses, that, in the dawn of supper he lasted three hours to eat some bread. And though he was a captain he never obtained resource. There were too many false adresses and the governess couldn't really care less. And so they survived, bruises never fail as long as curtains never drop, which is what the sleepers say at the dawn of a difficult day. 'Don't struggle, there aint medicine for it,' said the kreuger. 'If you struggle you might faint, and faint heart never managed to change the laws of love. In their eyes there wasn't space for him there. He was an idiot and didn't understand how to get his personal messages across impersonally. Oh the brutality of it! If the great wall of china fell he'd hear every murmour, but because he was so gormless peoples ears pricked at his blunderances. Fail me not my eagle you shall be born an Indian.
This is not mimmicry. If all the socks in the World player pied piper to the gallapagus tortoise we might realize, that in the event of a mistake, radical spasticity is needed to support the cracked pot, and besides the angels the future zooms out and reliance is regained with no surplus injury, just a flickering falter. As he approached the hallway his poppy fell off and he looked very silly, and smiled reluctantly happier.
'Hey chief, what you up to tonight?' , ' No, not me fella, just reading,' allthough he was ashamed to speak of reading and they laughed gretuitously, 'haha very funny he said, (you like slipknot.)' he got that last comment in there so sweetly that he had to tip his head back a bit, and feel the proud of himself. To be chased by a stranger occurs to them and they are all respectfully silent. How can that of happened? If not God? And suddenly everythings sorted whilst the pig fairies all stand around and laugh. And they're real people aswel, not the one's you read in comics. One's like you and me, Starsky and Hutch, all the clairvoyants and their duaghters, the palientologists, sideshow bob. Constantly involved in it somehow, and unjustly I might add, it's a predicament.
So he popped on his blazer and chuffed at the annuls of defeat he made a skeleton out of carrots and sold it to his donkey, who tried to eat it, and died of cancer the next day. Sorry. He turned round and the hippo opened it's mouth to reveal a.....and let me say it again a 'dowe egberts,' and yes righly so, he had a sniff and achieved nostalgia. The problem with the charicature of this century is he gave me free will, and I took it back, he ran off and now he's not there anymore. In other words 'tylers not here,' 'tylers gone.' And there was a blank screen of envy because something that was considered such a masterpiece had been mocked in vain. Take that you athiests, as if you wouldn't do the same to match your unanswered curiosty. I also watch football, and know the game pretty well, however modest I am I can't remember for the life of me any of the players, Mezut Ozil, Jack Wiltshere, Schezny, Aaron Ramsay to name a few. There's a message there for all the haters including terrorists. Simply that terror is something assigned to scottish terriors, clues in the name. Steve Bushchmi said that too. Gutted. As they turned their attention to the table he lept out throwing tablespoons. 'Change the scenery,' came a disentangled goal. 'Change the scenery of this hangover.' All benign was the time that had passed them in fortune as well as in favour, because the truth of it was, he had a frayed haircut that only the animals out there would understand. 'Take it back, my saviour, take the sweep and two ducks off me!' it had hurt his feelings, he was trying to help. Now tomorrow would be in Glasgow and a stew with a money pole nailed to it would saturate his misfortune. And suddenly he ran, as if lifted by the notes of his entourage his was flooded with music. Portions of vast spurious vacancies advanced streamwaved on by egg plant surveys of the most confined musical talent, by which he stood and cared hard. For it had been his debt and he must forrage now.
Thinking to themselves was unusual for them. They were queens of satire, and big heads. So as it was worrying they wouldn't cave in. If they were bothered about it it would become a nuissance. He shot out of the dark, abraisened fortuantely. He found not questions, and through his parsonage caught a shock on the outside. It was forever two days ago, and now it was likely to be a day or two. The fleet had caused an uproar and devastated the rivals, but a catch of fish didn't have the same impact. He was bored of dim lights and being born again.
In the past the truth had been wandering through them discreetly. Their bodies carried the lives of their beauty. Off the beaten track it wandered with features away, and crawled back like a lesbian cradling the fifth ammendment. As luck had it, all the women in that city halted the forces, and clambered over hills and valleys with torches and banners, that the women would be freed from security, and allowed to have secrets. They already had this, but decided they wanted it anyway. If this can be seen as a crime, the fifth amendment is a good thing. Radical as it seems to those who devour sharks alive and carry burdensome grudges that wont be fulfilled until those shovanists are dealt with for good, a paradigm.
Back in the house, it was happening so fast. The egos were collaborating on the capital invested in the braches, but the trees had fallen down, just like the masters smile when he was sunken by a sharp witt. His views were on the table. The table was hopeful, and the table was needy. This was backed up with full scientific measures. Capacity of size, provides equality of measure, but gives too easily. Banged up is what they said for him. ' He should be behind bars, and not the ones you are welcomed in,' his friends had not much in the way of reassurance. In this age, the Countries had even more divisions, and for the averages sake it wasn't compounded.
In the end they disguised the dog and flavoured the milk with cinnamon, and the tide rolled in, with it plastic bags and wood that drifted randomly, as if the sight of humankind cultured a source that flourished with ambiguity. No sun would be approved of, and the shame of history banished the cultivation of any optimism.
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