Salad Fingers episode 9

New Salad Fingers Episode 9:

Hubert Cumberdale, you taste like soot and poop!

This is the first salad fingers in 3 years. I missed you buddy.

Comrades, I've had a startling thought.

What if the only thing achieved by "wish pokemon were real day" is the mass unlocking of every zoo's cage, every pet's collar, every wild animal's self awareness... a factory of fear and carnage.

I don't mean so sound subversive, but take a look at this lady.

Utter mayhem... The article tells us that comrades "threw their cages open and commited suicide in what may have been one last act of spite against his nighbors and police."

Let us face reality comrades, these prophets had faith in the coming pokeworld. Their family and neighbors refused to admit the very heavy reality of WPWR day, treating it as a farce, or a simple fairy tale. These WPWR beleivers gave us all a warning of what is to come. Do not allow their deaths to have been in vain.

If you choose to wish, be sure to do it safely. Have pokeball in hand and be ready to catch those that are close or seem dangerous. If not for yours, then for my sake.

I cannot afford pokeballs. <---- this dapper bug cathcer doesnt even allow returns.

Help.

Off the Record

I’m probably a few threads away from entering a deep Samadhi state.

I’m very close to hopping on a series of trains and traveling to Oaxaca Mexico.

I’m in the mood to dethrone my political and economic leaders and hold auction for the title of ruler, sold to the most interesting bidder.

I’m wrapped, in a series of thoughts that keep returning to the same blank-less stare.

In a few moments I will sully my chances to observe a traditional “ego sacrifice.”

I am breathing. I am breathing.

I am alone on my island

that is surrounded

by countless other lonely islands.

I

am

so

hysterical

most of the time that I keep my mouth shut.

I will move forward and spend much time in the past. I climb stairways only to forget multiple items that I had meant to bring with me. I traverse fields at night and try my utmost to remain pragmatic regarding lurking monsters and hatted figures.

I’m already altered. I’m in no need of power and greedily seize most that is handed to me.

Eight years from now, my lover and I are riding on the back of elephants for the second time and naming them.

Eight years from tomorrow I discover a better way to wipe my ass hole, and my children never know anything of the first method.

Eight years from yesterday I am still pretending in my head that I am a ronin, and I am still intentionally getting lost in forest preserves.

Eight years from two years ago today, I am able to grow a proper mustache to accompany my beard. Eight years from tonight I am reminding myself that love is what matters.

Seven years from now I will plan an adventure to Sao Paolo Brazil that will have to be postponed.

Six years from now I will be taking the last warm swig of a 1 day old Miller High Life (champaign of beer).

Five years from now I won't be invited to my friend Andrew’s going away party.

Four years from now I’ll be too lazy to refill my water glass even though I’ll be thirsty.

Three years from now I’ll know 5 digits of the Fibonacci sequence

Two years from now I will dream of being taken against my will to stand vigil over a cosmic body of my choosing.

One year from now I’ll be imagining how my life would have unfolded had I never ingested any sort of tryptamine.

I like how it’s always a fucking mystery with this guy, you know, life. I like how we trick ourselves into believing our tricks. I love how the ride comes from nowhere and returns. I love that nothing makes any sense.

I am glad I am human and not something worse.

Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om

Om

Addendum 3: I would like to alter this space-time so that humans have wings, and that all devices meant explicitly for war were never invented except broad swords and wakizashis and Crocodile Dundee Gigantic Hunting Knives, because close ranged winged battles are just so much more gentlemanly than long range missiles.

Crush the Alchemy

So, I wrote a rap and layered it with an amazing track by an artist named Metaform. The original piece is called 'Crush' and is from, in my opinion, his best album, 'On the Shoulders of Giants.'

I named it 'Crush the Alchemy.'

Let me know what you think!

Click here to hear it!

Below are the lyrics:

break beats and melodies streaming right in front of me

my eyes the hieroglyphic treble clef translate topography,

and honestly, without a beat

at 23,

I can free a stanza of its syntax and still be 120 b-

pm, the night threatens to never end,

it’ll lend some labor toward the sky

and we can start again,

pretend it all depends on how you tend to make friends

and count the third as real since the pineal still has a lens,

then,

the jetty eddy in a stream full and steady,

mystical and mythical I know that they’ll let me,

grab a mic and stay tight under the spotlight

fixed on my flow, you know that everything will be alright

My centerfold is six fold, too bold, stars glow,

truth be told its all soul,

trees bend don’t mend

even nature can’t ignore this shit...

paralytic rhetoric rapidly rolling off his quick lip,

he’s hip,

and pays close attention

to them others rapping but he stays in the back laughing

picking up his ego cuz he threw it in the trash bin

quasi holy with a bit of sin, he’ll always win

Get him pinned and you’ll put him in attack mode

consciousness expansion the objective

not given a shiny shit the goal, yo,

welcome to my strong hold

a hole filled with meta anticipatory strong joe

spiked with jolly molly augmented espresso

its gold

meaning that I’m hype from the get go,

ladies and gentlemen please let go of your halos

and find the meaning

of the supersonic hyperbolic metatronic payload,

only far away cause you proclaim so,

I’m only here to bring you closer so you may know

the drift pinch is a cinch that you don’t have to

k-hole to be shown.

so get blown, or hone your skills

just keep in mind, its life that kills

who was it catching blind daily grind to pay the bills?

who was it perma-gathering chills and frills?

you, the entity you dream will ensue beyond the death hue

what a damn fool,

and everything and everyone and every place you think you knew,

yeah well me too!

so even though I’m almost outta body

spit these lyrics knotty knuckled fists

with more power than Gatti with a triple shotty,

hotty with the body let me meet ya

I can make ya naughty any party

with a proper beat and getting real rowdy

call me if you’re looking for a fan

of the fun fodder, flows that go boom boom

and range from hot to bothered,

if you want it louder

introduce ya to my megaphone

and call reptilians to beam me up

and leave my world alone!

my theta waves are universally known,

and university grown,

stardom a stones throw from being a dead zone,

on a mission from annihilation

to have my break beats shown

and crooked beats evolve to satiation

the soul,

hello,

you may remember me,

I’m called your inner enemy

shape and form identical to third eye physiology,

its all in me, the history and present tense

its got to be without a doubt the alchemy of love

and staying free,

now, take eternity and find a seat beneath

the bodhi tree.

Will Work 4 Soul

So I went applying for jobs today. The first restaurant I went to is called Wildfire. It's pretty upscale and has been alive for 8 years. Lots of business and high prices; just what I'm looking for.

I take a seat in the bar area to fill out my application and notice that directly in front of my nose on the table is a dead, upside down rolly polly.

I do what any sensible primate does when faced with this predicament; I poked the rolly polly to test its level of dead. As my pointer finger made quasi-gross contact and spun the bug on its shell 180 degrees like a handicap break dancer, it began to squirm.

Laying atop my table was a live, upside down, squirming rolly polly. I brushed it onto the floor just as the manager came to check on me. I was tempted to impromptu add 'exterminator' to my previous job experience.

How did that rolly polly get there? Why was it upside down?