Ululate before you loo...

The deeds of men-who-think-like-stones are abrupt and cruel. Period. And to handbaskets with them, we say! Ahh the looters and shrine-bound Ayn-eaters and cloistered mall-warts and simple tunes, muck-a-lucking their chides of mid-heavy and winterous bounding ululations... one answer? Fuggum. Here, my irreverent little fries and freeform freedom-barers, is one attempt at shaking out the dust. And so we betray the braying altogether: one baby hrumm after another; the older s/he gets, the better the rest and rinse of details. Keep it flowing, brüder, keep it glowing.

A perspired thought, inspired by respiration and well, wetness-lacking.