hooray for the movement

when the heat comes on in my apartment, it sounds as if ali and frazier are duking it out in the walls. ahh, to sleep, perchance to dream, there's the rub. i had green eggs and hamlet for breakfast this morning with alonzo, a mann who is always the center of attention. he takes a lot of heat for his personality, but that is the price you pay. once, when he was homeless, i let him shaq up with me for few weeks. he used to o'neal down and pray through the hard times. i told him tan times if i told him once to read the king james version of the bible, but he preferred to listen to red kyner. he would go down by the riverside and hang out with chris childs, who was motherless and would often keepnews to himself. i told moses to go down there malone to retrieve them, and to karl me if he needed any help. but in order to maintain their solitude, they were willing to duke it out. i can't count how many arguments we had trying to get them to open up. they would always say we were off basie, which would throw us a curve. all in all however, we had a ball, except when the tv writers were on strike and we had to find something else to do on thursday nights. desi the strike may end soon. by the grace of god, i hope the strikers have the will to go on and stan getz (along with the other strikers) what he deserves.
sometimes, workers need to strike. i tried to get my co-workers to protest for nicer bathrooms, but i was told i was full of shit. it pissed me off that an old fart would say that. in fact, it made me want to take a voyage to uranus, but i didn't have enough gas. such things happen oil the time. i am tired of being put down, kay? for i am a starr after edwinning on the wheel of fortune. that was the 25th milestone of my life, and i am sending out an sos for all to hear. to be frank, i want you to know of me from hear to eternity, from montgomery, alabama to the clifts by the jordan river. from the farmers of peru to the artists of france, remember me. sing a song of praise for me, you miserable masses. light a candle, you pertinent people.
it is you, you leaders of tom tomorrow, who will create the conditions of change. i can cents it. you will march forward two by two, silently, without signs, singing voicelessly the songs left unspoken. and then, the guys will be all smileys and the dollars will reign down on us for the long uhaul, for we on the move from the john to the motherland of africa. we are tired of the fecal matter that is modern life. we are reddy, helen, for something new, and for something by blue mitchell. sing out your song, however ludacris the lyrics may be. for when you sing, life is jay-z, life taking candy from a bebe. yo that line was phat, baby. you've come along way howie, but you still have a long weigh to go. so, step onto the scale of life, which is beyond measure. remember to always do this, for an ounce of prevention is worth an exra pound of marie curie.
ohh, john q public, sing out, from the galileo's of newton, ma, to the virgil hill's of south dakota. then, you can wrest your head on my shoulder, and i will anka your wait until your number is called. for life is a bakery, a gaye place that cookes up goodies for us faster than we can eat them. you need a wilson to control your appetite, less you grow chubby eating the supremes cake, leading to a domino impact that will cause you to gain weight. so eat, and grow strong, but then stop, before you grow fat. if you find these thoughts off the waller, honey, than suckle on this: a rose by any other name is still a rose, so don't grow stern and make sure you ain't misbehavin. i'm not tryin to bug you, but i want to make sure you are not left out in the cole, flying aimlessly like some gnat. you moth remember to take care of business. i hope these words will a rouse you, charlie, and that you have understood the tenor of my remarks. if you can hear me, than stop acting like a monk and take the coltrane into the city. brush up on your math while you are at it, for while you can adderly, you can not subtract. so what, you say? well, poor math skills will leave you kind of blue if you are in a situation where you need them. your problems will multiply, and there will be divisions, so grab a pendas, and copy these words, for they will serve you well in life. but no, you would rather rest on a cot, caught in a trap, in a room without windows and a room without doors, that has bin lit on a fire, while you watch films from the cannes festival and fill your stomach with garbage.
so, duh, now what are you gonna do? i am not a big fanta of the approach you are taking right now. you have to mclean up your act, and get a new bag, jackie, or your life will be one long song of blue notes, lacking prestige. the days of weinstock and roses will pass you by, joe, and you will spend the rest of your days by the moon river, wasting time. wake up, and get a redding on where this is going, or else, everything will be staxed against you. sam and dave agree with me. it is up to you. you need to pickett up, before it is too late, or else you surely be a drifter for the rest of your days. moonglows will not shine down on you, and you will fill your time at casinos, getting mcphatter by the minute. johnny, if you make moore bad choices, i will be dunn with you. i will not let this ruin my homer life, and i am going to cry a riviera over you, but nevertheless, as long as their is a ray of hope, johnny, i will kneel down and pray that your bland existence will improve. i will not cry wolf, even when the masses are howlin with laughter at our travails. we will tread these muddy waters, and drink from the fountain of life, for we have pep, see, and though we are given the cola shoulder, we will get to the root beer of the problem and solve this endless equation.
for now, this square will attempt to eat a pie in 3.14 seconds, as this blog has come full circle. i could preston, but the site of a billy club slows my progress, and i retreat, ready to regress and retard my gaynors. i will survive, and though gloria may evade me, one of these summers, it will donna on my enemas that no amount of pubic humiliations will perturb me. i will keep swinging and remain a goodman and from glenn miller to glen miller and down the mountain side, my boys will be on the dan casey, helping me to solve the mysteries of life.
ed, i will wynn. oz see a bright future, a tomorrow without toms, a new day of strong, caring, compassionate beings.
i must be dreaming a dream fit for a king.
it fades to black.
the nightmare remains.