. . .

Clear as mud

Yes, kiddies, it's that time again!

What time is that Unkie Phyllis?

It's time for Alloni to be bored at work and write random email meessages to others in the hope that they will respond and in some way allow him to forget for a few moments the meaninglessness of his shallow existance!

Yay! (This sucks. Let's go watch cartoons.)

Who said that?

He did, Unkie Phyllis! No, she did! No, it was him! No, no, not me! Someone else!

I know it was one of you. If you don't 'fess up, I'll BLAST YOU ALL WITH MY FLAMETHROWER!!! HAHHAHAHAHHA!!!!! IN FACT, I THINK I'LL DO IT ANYWAY! HAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAHAHAHHAHA garg choke gasp cough wheeze choke...

Good one, Timmy! Yeah, this garrotte my father gave me really comes in handy sometimes. Hurry up, guys! "Some Random Cartoon Just Like All The Other Ones That You Can't Live Without"(TM) is on!

Cough cough cough cough cough...

Little bastards.

I'll get them some day.

But until then, it's time for "Secrets ecrets crets rets ets... Of of f... The Universe iverse verse erse rse se...".

Episode 57B - Journey into the depths of Alloni's mind, heart, and soul.

A frightening journey indeed.

So.

Hmm.

Well.

Um, give me a minute.

Dum dum dum dom dee dum, dom dee dum. Dum dum dum Dup dee dum dom dee dum.

o/~ Killing me softly, with his song, tearing my whole life, with his words, killing me softly. o/~

<Whistles. Looks around aimlessly.>

Well. It looks like Alloni's mind, heart, and soul are more or less blank. A shame, really. This was going to be such an interesting episode, otherwise. The bit with the exploding Chippendales dancers throwing fish into the Grand Canyon is always a thrill.

Maybe the place is closed for renovations.

We can only hope.

Look, I'm getting tired of just hanging around here. There's got to be something going on in here somewhere.

Oh good, a directory. Let's see, basement: libido, repressed anger, animal instincts. Hmm. No, Cheri would tickle me into unconsciousness if we went down there. Although the idea mine does start somewhere down there. Hmm. No, even so, we'll just move on.

First floor: self image. Off-limits. What? Why? Oh, here it is. Apparently it's flooded with insecurity. Definitely not. I hate wading. (Get the pumps in here! "Right away, sir!")

Second floor: dreams, hopes, wishes, fears, idea mine main entrance, refreshment stand, Well, we can head over there, and if we get bored, there's a short-cut to the surface through the mouth just up ahead.

Grab an umbrella, will you? We might need it for protection.

Yeah, good old D.A. likes his towels, but give me an umbrella any day. You can use it to attck, defend, frighten, support your wieght, poke with, point with, and so on.

What is today, by the way. Thursday? Oh.

Actually, since it is Thursday, and this thing has already gone on long enough already, I think I'm just going to cut the whole thing off here. If more comes to me later, I'll write more later.

Toodles.