the pink blog

boris was staying over at his friends house
when he and capitano fisticuffs got in it was pitch black
not baseball pitch
nor a sales pitch
pitch as in that black sticky stuff
he was shown to his place of temporal rest
something seemed odd to boris in the darkness
that's odd, he thought
he quickly drifted off into a dreamy sleep
he dreamt he was alone in a large, grandiose mansion
there was not a soul around
they were all outside watching this electrical storm
there were 3 wings
and no inbred twittering idiots to be seen
there were 4 water closets
where the owners kept their water
a total of 8 bedrooms
and a room atop some stairs
with a sign bluntly stating
"he who enters here is tost"
he decided against trying the door
he didnt wish to be tost after all...
in his mind he wandered these corridors
breaching each
he even found himself in the bowels
looking for some kind of service
you call this service?
nobody was to be seen
luckily, even in his dreams boris didnt believe in a spectral universe
mr and mrs and mr fisticuffs were nobody to be found
il capitano and his siblings had cleaned their rooms beyond recognition
even splat the donkey
and Lucifer the lettuce
left no trace of their having been there
another poisoning by the FSB?
another wall built across western sahara?
another anal probing story?
another god invented the earth in 1972 scam?
another keynesian economic rationalism fairy tale?