Astrology Fulla Rompolicious Stoopid For A Planet Packin’ Big Time Frickin’ Crap
Load Up The Booby Doo
About Princess Balestra
There Circleth Wispsa Purest Celestial Vapors
I should prolly tellya I keep a toad under my bed who communes with spiritsa the afterlife, but I am not that kinda astrologer.
What in hell am I supposed to use? A bird cage or sumthin’? Or mebbe sum amphibbo-beest-specific plastic ark with like a heater, cos toads need that kinda stuff?
(No, waitaminute, that is chameleons.)
Point is, I would not be happy with that arrangement — an’ this has nuthin’ to do with the noise or the mess or the smell, ya understand.
Gotta think about the toad here, despite her absence close up to my stargazin’ spirit havin’ a potentially detrimental effect on my abilityta mix it up with the celestial vapors for the benefita all hoomanity.
I figure she would be happier hangin’ out in a pond with mebbe a buncha other amphibian pals, like mebbe sum noots or sumthin’?
(Do not ask me how this all works; I am not a frickin’ botanist.)
Anyways, so there is jus’ junk an’ shoes an’ kinda storage stuff under my bed right now. Defo no toads.
Gotta hope that is how ya wannit, cos, yanno, ya gotta endeavor always to be a good person.
An’ to be honest, I ain’t too sure toads got a handle on the mystical secretsa the heavens anyhow, same as cats.
Want my opinion?
Personally I think summa that stuff was jus’ MADE UP.
Yeah, yeah — buncha frickin’ ugly gals slapped squijosa psychedelic mushrooms on sum broomsticks an’ got off makin’ up stories while they jacked their fanjos big time.
“Let’s have sum cats an’ toads an’ rats servin’ as pretend conduits between the mortal plane an’ celestial undulationsa the planets — kinda like Tamagotchis infused with magica ancient talismans.”
*cackle cackle cackle*
I can picture the crazy fuckers in their cave right now, wailin’ away, thinkin’ up stoopid names for their imaginary menagerie. (It has gotta be a cave, cos if they hung out in a barn or sumthin’, their wild cacklin’ mighta attracted the attentiona suspicious farmhands, an’ that woulda been the enda mysticism as we know it.)
So, yeah, forget the toad.
An’ … uhm … ‘part from that, I would describe myself as jus’ a regular person tryin’ to get ahead on what is by turns a scary ol’ shitballa a planet an’ divine beauty manifested as dreamojuice makesya wanna lick it up till it pulses outtaya ears withya every heartbeat, all kinda honey dribblysum.
Slow down, you move too fast.
You gotta make eternity last.
Spinnin' around, out on your own.
Lookin' for fun an' feelin' Ploooty.
♇ bubba-da-booby-dooby-dooby-dooby... ♇