Template:Purge

[ ] When all of a sudden six beavers came from Southwest Angry Buzz the forest quailed before the glare. The jar of trees was broken like pigeons burning on the windowsills of the souls. This I saw! Though many will deny, the atrocity stands even as bagels flaunt their Jewishness in the parks of every great city. Cans! In Cannes! And clocks! Oh yes, I hear your sound, you evil of things! They are the posts of the stockade, stockpiles, stockyards and trains. Freshly stepping out, how came they coated with mold? I weep o'er the compact disc broken upon the compact desk garbage compactor. Look! See the play of light from the edge so fractured? It is lasers! Rocks of Stonehenge. Rocks and box and lox and there go those bagels again. Recyclable. Alas, the world, I knew it well! How came it to such a state? 'Twas evil men. Evil who saved the pupfish and killed the whales. With atomic and more. Whose paper floats upon the winds of time billowing bellowing mellowing yet sails of ships nevermore. Calipers withering on the vine. Tape. I need tape for to fix the world. Fifty thousand miles of tape for I must go twice around. I will cast off the cigarette butts of generations to save the stars and the pupfishes again in cans. In CANS I will put your pupfishes! I am sick of the bastard things flying around with OIL dripping from their bearings! Window frames picture frames pupfish frames bottles of paint. Peanuts. Peanuts and jelly beans and American Presidents! And you wonder why the moon turns red in the Apocalypse? Methane, ethane, propane, butane, litany of the inane and the insane. It will be the death of the universe. And Stonehenge will stand, alone in the wreckage, as stand it always has.