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Level 968 of 4297

Started on Jan 16, 2002.
Completed on Jan 17, 2002.

Artist matrix

SNY5 967 JER2

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(level 968)

Grid poem

VERBIAGE TRIAGE PAD = entrance giddy up it's about time to say something regarding the lack of religious grid i feel and the newly discovered colorings of our space world above the earth. does this text box have a maximum character count set? we shall see possibly unless it is 7,003. one day i met a lamb by the name of garcia macho of tamaranjado. you see, tamaranjado was not an actual place, and garcia was anything but an actual goat. it was a figment of frustration, of delirious and superimposed preposerosity to the nth degree. if i was a famous man i would let it be known that not only is the space actually green but the night sky is as well and the daylight is another color and that god is watching us all over the world for the betterment of the colorings in the sky and garcia says hell yes and i say that's not appropriate at all man, you just said the opposite of positive negative to the nth degree mah man. step back or step forward and draw yoselv into something in the sky, see a thousand needles in the eye of a storm a swarm of antlered midget worms fighting to drop science on a wee bit of parcelaged lot mank, yuk yuk. what he said. Trastan or ca-caw!! lava lamp! I we jo jo jo jo jo hunch. Car bunch tweekhole. Cracker hizuzufuher. Subbajaru iconoflasm. I goza flincho blackem. Three hours later. Iza canza gazo fimba caflaflablaton needle dilzdud. Howza fret gimbiljo. Bowko and look here, and closer to here. You don't want to hear my "so long" song. It's unlistenable after the first time. Hey...., Man. Reminders of making a face after making a scene (eat your own produce) and the comfort of owing and accepting flil our snizzels until we warm ourselves on a quality sound of soft thumping without caring how southern or if it's fried or whether it might have a red nut, some shit like tuba blues humping out the deep sounds of "it's time to go." Remember that if things get scary, the only kind of bones you gotta woorry about are the kind that are covered in meat a few seconds later. Those are gonna take advantage of shit and not even care. And God had something unfinished to say about some lucky soul. I think the right decision is to make a face before making a scene. The faces of death are one such face. But really, Buttface....

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