When the rush of extreme sex grows bland, her taboo thrill seeking and sophomoric fascination with serial killers such as Richard Ramirez reaches its logical Satanic conclusion on the roads of Southern California.

At the striking of noon on a certain fifth of March, there occurred within a causal radius of Brandon railway-station and yet beyond the deepest pools of emptiness between the uttermost stellar systems one of those infinitesimal ripples in the creative silence of the First Cause which always occur when an exceptional stir of heightened consciousness agitates any living organism in this astronomical universe.

Besides being unsystematic, Hamann’s writings are typically short; occasional in nature; adorned with mysterious visual symbols (e.g. the figure of Pan), and enigmatic titles, subtitles, and mottos; authored with an adoption of strange identities; extremely obscure in content; lacking in developed argument; full of quotations from ancient and modern works left in their various original languages, as well as citations and allusions, many of whose significance is left unclear; prone to the use of German archaisms, especially the vocabulary and constructions of Luther’s German Bible; bombastic and dramatic; crude, sometimes to the point of obscenity; humorous and satirical, often in cruel ways; and rich in metaphors.

Another good sign – the Cathedral Streisanded our smug Pepe meme – revealing profound status insecurity.

Majored in animal sciences with dreams of turning Daddy’s land into a hatchery where I could sell ostriches to all the early-nineties heavy rotation rappers, first-round draft choices, and big-budget movie sidekicks, eager to invest their “skrilla,” and who, after flying first-class for the first time in their lives, laid down the dog-eared financial section of the in-flight magazine in their laps and thought to themselves, “Shit, ostrich meat is indeed the future!”

The Braised Fish Filets w. Napa Cabbage & Roasted Chili belongs to an elite class of foods defined by the fact that when you consume them, it is impossible to fathom consuming anything more delicious.

When I was ten, I spent a long night burrowed under my comforter, cuddled up with Funshine Bear, who, filled with a foamy enigmatic sense of language and a Bloomian dogmatism, was the most literary of the Care Bears and my harshest critic.

“Equal Justice Under Law!” I shout to no one in particular, a testament to both the potency of the weed and my lightweight constitution.

The deep, fat sound truly speaks inside ourselves and cannot be passed by.

Now it’s the alien’s turn to have an itchy spine. It reminds you of your half of the bargain. The alien’s anatomy is rather more complex than yours, though. For one thing, it has infinitely many infinitely long spines.