
                  *       *     *      *      * * *        *
                 A A      N     N     A A     D    D      A A
                A   A     N N   N    A   A    D     D    A   A
               A     A    N   N N   A     A   D     D   A     A
              A  ***  A   N     N  A  ***  A  D     D  A  ***  A
             A         A  N     N  A       A  D    D  A         A
            A           ******************************           A
          A         "Stream of Unconsciousness"        aNAda #26   A
        A                                                            A
     A                        by Effy                  03/19/00         A
 A                                                                          A
     ********************************************************************

        All I could remember from the ride in the blue bus was that it seemed
 like a hazy, sunlit eternity where everything hurt my eyes and seemed to
 echo in my ears repeatedly.  It was horrific wonder, almost the most awesome
 fear.  Inanimate things moved without human aid.  Crazy.

	God spoke to me somehow.  Or rather, he screamed in my ear.  Now I
 can only hear in mono.  I work for 10k a year making cappuccino in styrofoam
 cups.  We're not as bad as those friggin' bastards who cut down entire
 rainforests and destroy every element of ancient culture that aren't like
 their freakish souls!  We are more subltey contributing to the demise of the
 human race so thus we someday will never again have to worry about the
 ghastly possibility of being reincarnated as a filthy, pasty, reeking mass
 of human flesh, feeding upon the sorrows and joys of each others, and having
 faith in something only to place the illusion upon their situation that
 there was some actual purpose to their existence, that they were better than
 any other living creature that walked the earth...

	The only amusing thing about being a music tech student in the same
 building as an american cancer society is that they quickly grow to hate
 you, but make it apparent to you slowly over time, each month becoming a bit
 more hostile, until they give up on trying to make you stop blasting the
 music so loud, smoking in groups of half a dozen under their office, and
 hitting their windows with frisbees.

	64. What kind of conversation do you expect to have with the
            following nicknames all together in a chatroom?

		1.  Sexy Red Hed
		2.  sPORK dork
		3.  Harry
		4   Peter
		5.  dOHnut

	Ew!  You shouldn't talk about that.  It's nasty, and icky, and it's
 even worse than poo.  Now you don't like poo, do you?  Wouldn't people think
 you were evil if you indulged in feces?  It's the exact same thing.  If you
 bring this up again, I will have to get my bodyguard to force your head into
 a toilet in a public restroom and drink from the resting place of the Crap.
 
	All around me were pastures of young green cornstalks.  My tongue was
 huge.  I tried to speak and realized I was a cow.  Moo.

	An entire chorus of events happened without delay, in just a
 millisecond;their entire contents reverberating against a warmth of
 something continous in nature... it's not cool to crack jokes about record
 engineering, because nobody who claims to be cool understands them anyway.
 
	I'm covered in milk.  Where did it come from?  The sky?  The gods?
 Your mom?  Ahahahaha, you said Mom!  MOM.  My mom has a p.H.D. in pHOAM.
 Nothing is really pH balanced, you know.  Not even your oh-so-sure
 deodorant.  Fuck 'em.  Fuck 'em all.  Nothing but fruit matters anymore.  I
 am the Great Gregarious Grape.

	Seems I got a bit off subject...where was I?  Hmm...Oh yes!  I am a
 piece of cheese, and someone is eating me!  I am a bud and someone is
 smoking me!  I am a cow and tom green is milking me!  I am a toilet and
 someone is pissing in me!  I am a red door and someone is painting me black!
 Paint me black!  I am everything and no one believes in me!  What am I now?
 Am I God?  Or am I just you?  Vomit.  Toilet.  I am just the Toilet.  Tubby.
 I drink piss, and shit, and even puke.  Sometimes I puke the piss, shit, and
 puke back up when they try to stuff napkins down my throat.

	(Mr. Toilet, you are positively disgusting.  You're fired.)

	67 1/2.	What were T.S. Eliot's last words?

                1.  "I'll never know what will happen if I dared to eat
                    a peach."
		2.  "I have to tell you now ... I have never been
                    to the dead land ... the cactus land ..."
		3.  "Mr. Mistoffeles the Cat was really a Miss."
		4.  "Did you ever realize that if my alias
                    was T. Eliot instead of T.S. Eliot, if you
                    spelled T. Eliot backwards it would spell TOILET?"
		5.  "I don't believe in no mermaids."

	74 1/8.	What were Edgar Allan Poe's last words?

		1.  "Hand me that bottle."
		2.  "Hand me that pipe."
		3.  "Kill me."
		4.  "You know what my name in Ebonics
                    means...'police'..."
		5.  All of the above

        We were swaying... back... and forth... back... and forth... and
 forth... and back... and suddenly in all directions possible, and many more
 we had never dreamed of before... in the back of the blue bus... blue...
 like the sky above... like a robin's egg... like Monday... my moon-flavored
 ice cream... fruit loops...

	Crazy... get off my train.

 {**************************************************************************}
 {  (c)2000 aNAda e'zine *                            * aNAda026 * by Effy  }
  **************************************************************************
