Cinnnnnnamon Roll

Kroner-

A matter of intergalactic importance involves you in a most revealing manner. It involves four elements. The first: your fourth eyelash. The second: a bison herd hiding in Paris. The third: the fact that people who plod endlessly forward in time have no business with this possum. The fourth one is a secret that I can't speak of, but I can quietly say to follow the ampersands.

Kroner, someone's going to make it, and then they'll come back for all of us. You need only light the way. If the way is not lit he will not find us and we will continue to wash in the sea. Go quickly, before the creeping frosting doesn't ooze off of the cinnamon roll and consume us. We must consume it first. We must end its existence for while in this incarnation there is no possible path of the universe other than the cinnamon roll devouring us like a relentless kudzu.

Maybe the unlikely sand idea is true after all. Maybe the patterns are remembered forever by every atom in the universe. Maybe that's what happens. But then again, why are they so limited in the information they can hold? &Good gravy! Their direction is undefinable!&

The cinnamon roll is weak, and I am quite full. Can we leave it till the morning?
But who knows what tasks the morning will bring? If only it would tell me. The future ought to be decipherable- it merely speaks backwards.

The frosting reacts, it doesn't know it will die. When you open your mouth, it thinks you will say "hi."

It seems I have a blog

The more things normalize, the more they go totally crazy.

I just wrote the letter "N" in the title column and this appeared:

No, Angelina, no! Take me back, Angelina, take me back!

So I experimented with all the other letters and got this from "H"

Hawkeye, Put Some Mixed Greens on that for Chrissakes!