Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Meanwhile, on Saturn...


The eyepod jackers don their masks for full effect.
And recede into the white,
like my hair.

Red fish, Blue fish
One fish, Two fish
two fish
to fish

Pie shish.

...And they wonder if there's life on Mars.

Work In Progress.


Alone with your thoughts is never a good thing while mindgliding on poisonous Goombas. Marked fetters are left from minds that went before, lost in thought, never to return the same. Such is the nature of cosplay kicks and vision trips.

I'm jonesing for some pork ribs...

...on Mars.

Meanwhile, on Saturn...


The child of Adam Strange spins vinyl UFO's for food or vegemite. Preferably vegemite. The loops attract zombie blackstars flashing grills made out of mercury in the whiteness of space, while the sound they make is like sucking of galactic spittle from astros humping wormholes.

Like hacking, only in reverse.

Like hacking, only in reverse.

Such is the growling mix of the universe.

...And she wonders if there's life on Mars.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Behold! Dyooood.


The Anti-Life Equation
has been hacked by the one-eyed Mentat...
...of Mars.

“aaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnd...i'm going to telepathically kill you riiight..NOW!!!

you should be dead. asshole.”

-jome (email assassin)