Created on Apr 28, 1997.
All of the gut-level miasmasynthesis made me feel like a gas giant, so we hopped the last plane to Jupiter. It was the aged sauerkraut that made intergalactic travel a psychotic, mind unraveling, fearful ordeal not unlike the anxiety engendered by the music of the piper of solipsism whose tune did battle with the strident harpie so finally, finally the searing voice of that surly hag ceased to be.
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