In the Vernacular: Visiting Ronaldland

Dear Generic Person with Idiotic Cow Story,

I am glad you brought up the jester children. Did you know that I,
also, was electrocuted this morning in the shower after an exposed
erection in the bathroom?

Basically, there were two people a man and a women or a girl and a bowl
in my room when I woke up. They appeared to me like a simple leaking
malfunction in my sleep pattern, resembling a fire or chemical burn
hazard. I was really surprised and washed my mouth out and placed the
man, bowl and girl inside. One looked up at me from the urethrole and
said "If swallowed, please contact a doctor immediately" causing me to
panic. Because when he said "contact a doctor" I did not think it was
washed exactly, but maybe the fold of the tongue he was riding in. Back
there, I was chosen to be incinerated or at least disassembled. I
perceived the hole to welcome me into this new exalted state.

That moment stripped me of my teeth, my friends leading me to believe
that my hallucinations were teeth. I once again had the crashing
feeling of tightenming, of being lubricated, and being forced to
receive this unwanted group of bowl, man, or woman. I was fuel-piping
and the price of my gift would be perpetual nesting but physical death.


At this time I felt a collapsing feeling as I gave in to the experience
of the valve-packing in my throat. I remember thinking that the bowl
had squeeed a little farther back and it was pouring out of this life
into my new one. I said out loud I am dying. Then I lost the support of
my body, my self, my nest and I began to burst and hum.

The girl then touched my gasket and I remember being drawn back into my
body and thinking to hell with this I am not going to die, not yet and
I felt the teeth smiling from the urethole looking at me. I felt the
fear. I felt the exhilaration of riding my bike with a helmet of meat.
I was back in the bomb. Even though this place was vibrant and
psychedelic it was within my ability to shrink down to the size of the
nest in my mouth. It lifted up off the gasket, I put on my helmet and I
flew up in a duststorm of twigs and bombs. I felt they were taking me
back down the hallway to my death. I then said out loud again I am
dying to which the woman or man responded only three more minutes and
you will be all right.

Three more minutes... Three more minutes was like a nesting raft that I
sailed out of that world. As soon as I was able to believe that in
three more minutes I would be normal again and everything began to
fade. I was several inches. I felt in control of my body and my mouth.
Slowly I drifted out of the their world, back through the crappy world
of bolts and patterns. With a little extra piping from my friends I was
able to wake up and separate my self from that moment.

My urethole still vibrates from the experience.

I am very grateful to have been with my friends.

Capitol Kong