Field Tripping

Yesterday we went to the science foundation. There was a big guy at the door with a tezar. Or something like that. A teazer? Anyhow, he teazed Michael McMikelson with it and that boy started to cuss like a bear in the picklepatch. I mean he let the blue streak fly. And that big man with the teazer, he just laughed and said, "I told you Jack, I told ya!" I think it was a case of misunderstanding the identity. But too bad for Michael, he got 5 weeks d-hall for his words.
While we were in the science foundation, I saw this reincarnation of a caveman, who was supposed to know all about fire and how to hunt the giant beaver. They had stone tools and knives and even bows, but no arrows.
And there was a presidential voice that kept coming on over some loud speaker and saying, "Just you look to the left, and ye shall see that it is where you were. Keep moving."
So we had to hurry it up through that foundation and I have to write a 213 page paper about the guillotine or else the Pilgrims intentions to genecide the indians. One of the two topics, but because of that loud speaker voice, I only got these few notes:
"The guillotine was used to the behea-"
"The pilgrims were out for gore to get even and they knew that all they had to do was to genecide the indians and so here's what they did, first they took a lot of old hides and rubbed-"

And that's all the notes I got. The science foundation is a good place and the bathroom smells like chef Boyardee.

Joy of G.T.I.

I have a secret.
I am a cat with wings.
Oh, the latter is obvious, but a CAT?
Yes, well, whiskers are in style. And the third-floor is a good place for breathing.
Heavy breathing, if you get my drift.

Most drifts are not got.

My drifts could cause public awareness. Public problems.

The Soo Society is trying to comprehend me. Apprehend my intentions, if you will.
They attempt to verbalize my internalized dialogue.
Go on, Soo Society. Give it your best shot in the dark. The Dark Continent awaits your publications.
Toxic Publications.
Foreign police, policies, politics, polls, and Poles.
Phoney phonetics.
Gammorand. I ex disque, en ex machina. Proletariat el Dioyes.
Oh yeah!

gobi

love me tendermim, you texan angle, and I'll glib your assets on a plane to Jupitor.
I picked the best time of year to break down.
Deiosaurs in a boat!
What impossible cruelty. The Stegothoepolon tries to plug in electricity underwater. No wonder they died.
They die in real time.
Just pose this question to yourself: What is the fourth- root of happiness?
Age.
And what, mind you, is the advantage of living in a tree?
Rhetorical questions are all but gone.
Fine, just fine. You wont believe it- I got promoted.
To chief sulk, third class.
Okay, okay, call me a meanderer. A wannebargo. A lamp-dodger.
But I know my way around the bank, and I'm not afraid of Deiosaurs. Or what's next.