some guy (self) wrote,
some guy
self

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Friday Night Gibberish

Each paragraph pasted and arranged from countless iterations the abstract poetry generator, until the whole thing frightened me by starting to make sense:

Off to speak your cel phone.
Delight, I've read.
Or is - but - I should probably - a word!

I come with knowledge.
My own ways, own beliefs.
Can anyone verify this?
With money?

Ecstacy.

Unsuspecting travellers are like you; you're heading
into Greece tomorrow regardless.

But the office tomorrow! Is power the country.

Let's make a cent to actually speak your cel phone.
Improvement in honesty, I suppose.

Except, now you're heading into the long term
improvement in living a whole lot of the devil
and not have consequence.

Let's accept these comics as we sincerely apologize
for bringing Nintendo Gameboy into your salvation.

I'll wait. Does responsibility?
We're not to speak your cel phone.
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