Nonplussed was I as our optiscope brought close to mine oculars that Mothership of Mass, it’s top the cruciform oricular shape of that Great Beast, the Mickey, it’s body the Can of the Consumer and it’s understory a shimmering, bloating, ventrilating, flatulating mass of tangled and bewebbed sloganry and marketry. Bloodmonkey looked not unnerved and only a grim nod he bestowed upon me when I questioningly glanced his way.
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Happy happy new year, dahling, may you enjoy your Coke, just do it, you can with Canon, God, it’s priceless.
Dance a can can on my Canon.
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