Wonderland Wafflehouse.

so here i am.
sitting once again.
on a leather wrapped chair.
made from the ass skin of a rhino.

these tender tree roots massage my back,
and infuse my spine with magical whispers
that tell me to go fuck myself.

so i proceed to fuck myself.
and it was awkward to say the least.
not knowing when to start.
or how it would end.

i gave up shortly after blinking a few times
and giving a deep sigh to my stuffed kitten.

its litter box is empty.
im a sad sad child.

no responsibilities.
no life.
just
saddness.

i like cheese.

identity

please.
when i think of carrot smelling marathon runners
it is what i think of.

not some nonsensical grape farmer trying to weed out
the ravaging prostitues stealing his grapes and using them
to pose for roman styled street painters.

by my WORD! WHY ARE YOU READING THIS.
...for entertainment of course.

and i don't mean to scare you off.
please stay.
i.
want.
you.
inside of.
me.
so you can move my arms and legs
at your will.
with the fleshy pullies,
and pipes to pump
ideas and thoughts

OKAY TURN PAGE NOW.


and all you will see.
is the poopoo you now live in.
cause you can't live in my body silly.
the secrets of the universe are held there.
shhhh.
and so are my insecurities.
and you're not allowed to touch those.
unless you really really.
want to.
get to know me.
so that means look past what you think i am.
and ask who i am.

dum dum.

good afternoon poo

ohh,
and i painted this when i was on a cruise.
cha cha.
enjoy

the camera sucks btw.

tootoo's like to play songs on my animal organs

WHAT THE EF?!

there is
an egg

FLOATING

in my soup!

cmon mother, you know i cant eat eggs.
they remind me of....torturous moments of when i decided
to experiment with boiled eggs.
and my.
my.
yoohoo.

i was puking for several weeks after several trips
to several doctors that all had
MOLES
on their armpits
and i don't know why you want me to talk about armpits
but
*SIGH*
i told you so.

and my my, why not take a gander at the sea floor
and eat all those yummy crabs that you will expell from your
earlobes in swarms of locus like crabs that will eat peoples finger nails off
that means you.
oh you know who you are.
you nail biter.

i like to bite thingstoo.

oh. la. la.

LIKE FOOD YOU TURNIP

hmm, that sounds like a nice name for my children
that i will never have because ill prolly be a hermit
who tries to thrive making hand made kites out of
pieces of my skin and loneliness.

i say. i go back to college.
in only a few days!
BE P\R]E[P/A1R2E3D4!