11/9 Toscano

Blick! Blicking blick of a blick!

Blick blick blick.

I sat, and society was torn up, the sacred, the profane, power from grace the world was turned on it's head. We learn we can't turn a blick eye on such things. They will escape and blick us all in our sleep.

It's culture really, at the heart of it. To blick. To blave. To blaaaaave. Once we say it we know exactly why we right, why we wrong, blicking's more blickerous than you otherwise might blick.

Blue.

Blick.

Beware. Of Blick. He's a mean fellow.

Not troubled entirely by the cannon fire, the jungle was a quiet and homey place. Standing peacefully on her head, Robert began yelling at his friends.

BLICK IT ALL!!!!!!!! WHAT THE BLICK ARE YOU DOING???????

They were good friends. They would understand.

The quest had gone well lately, there was an abundance of corn in the harvest. Rich, juicy blue corn of every flavor. Sapphire corn, cheap, but the price of ethanol will only go up in the future.

Have you invested enough in corn futures? I recommend it. So does Robert, but be careful, he yells.

Casting one's lot with the sound of the door slamming shut the message is clear. Do you still not get it? I said BLICK IT ALL!!!!!!!!!! We're good friends. You and I. You understand me. Sort of. Maybe. Close enough. We'll try again tomorrow, I can't stand here all day forever tomorrow on this vine on one foot on one hand asking the same old questions again and again without the hope of the truth of the joy of the fun of the real answer and struggle but finally we come to the complete and total finished final end of an end.

Blick out, my friends.