The Spirit Booth Beebread Coroutine Grandmother Newsletter
Wouldn't it be nice?
Wouldn't it be groooovy?
I mean, how utterly hep and up to the very moment would it be?
There she goes! Wearing nothing but a Coke and a smile, Liberty streaks across the great soccer field of human experience.
Would it be luverly?
I would say that yes, it would be luverly.
But: I digress. What I'm really on about (aboot in the Canadian) is this: by God, I've had it with all you humans, with your mistaking biology for eternal morality, your endless fat heads spouting solipsism disguised as truth, and the terrible chemical concoctions you choose to call cuisine. And your miserable sense of interior design! Only the Chinese and the Arabs have managed to come close, and the rest of you might as well live in plywood crates with piles of your own feces.
Honestly, do you have any idea of the effort that went into designing the human sensory apparatus? So that you could perceive the natural order of things? And then: the opposable thumb! Good Lord, that should've clued you all in. Look! you should have exclaimed. We have digits that allow us to paint our names on grains of rice. Perhaps we can use these paws to create fine dwellings and finer societies.
But no. No! Wretched flea-bitten hairless monkeys! Ooooo, if they still let us smite things I'd smite you all and start over again, don't you doubt it for a moment, and when I did there wouldn't be stupid movies and soft-serve ice cream and the notion of "better hair" wouldn't even be joked about when deciding which person gets to control weapons that split the very fabric of matter.
Idiots!
The weekly meeting is in the basement of St. Matthias church for the month of August, and meeting leaders are responsible for securing punch, cookies, and prophylactics.
