My marshmallow repeats to fade. My marshmallow never did that before. My marshmallow always faded, but never repeated, you see. It once consumed great numbers of rich tea biscuits and then fed them to its pet frisbee. Apparently my elephant is tired and is in need of a rest, but I will beat this cucumber vigorously until it co-operates with the German invasion of Scotland, which never actually happened. I once argued that point, but the teacher would not give up. I also argued that the toucan was a valid species, but was still not believed because of the confusion with the canning verb as of panini and immobile bonbons.

But then again, what is consumption? Could it be that the twisted sentence of many conjunctions and intricate meaning under the bridge by the water all need a break? I think not, for that is what the seagull foretells. The seagull has foretold many things, from the fall of Sweden to the rise of chipmunks. I knew the seagull well, but her mother was not happy with the quality of Anne Robinson, and so moved further South where the penguins are fluffier, and of course there were no penguins to the South of Jamaica, leading to a major catastrophe in the lower intestine of some impartial ant, where schizophrenic socks once filled the land with sheep, but now forget the aims of plywood who once fathered Mexicans. Once this episode was over I folded up my cat and e-mailed it to yo mama. She downloaded the cat and fed it with oyster syrup, craftily made by a clan of Russian elf monks, whose goal in life is to learn to fly, which mainly involves a form of falling where you forget to hit the ground. They never managed, of course, but the rate of condensation on my mechanical pigeon countered that with an argument incomprehensible to the human psyche'.

But then again, the inappropriately appropriated hydrocarbon does not know this, and carries on with its meaningless existence without being pardoned by the queen of France. Why not go and take a running jump off of a leaflet? I mean, whatever happened to the leaf, that turned it into a leaflet? Was it stepped on, or perhaps distilled by fraction using a thumbnail catalyst? By this point my punctuation is seeming dodgy, and so I am utilising many energy-saving techniques originally implemented by goldfish. Who else would expect the housefly to have an intricate knowledge of the physical forces acting on an apple pie when in mid-state-change while being rushed towards by a rather hungry warm-blooded entity that happens to have a low level of sanity and a name that is only pronounced by people who know the entity in original possession of the name?

Truth is not relative, but absolute, because if truth was relative nothing would exist, since all things would be relative to one another, meaning throwing an ant off a cliff could cause some unwary Venezuelan to consume low levels of gruelling shepherds today because of the untruth of truth itself. The kitchen sink attempted to fool me, it did. It just sat there, giving me the impression it was inanimate, but I know better! My marshmallow now only repeats now, and has apparently forgotten how to fade, which may be a problem. I will hire a marshmallow trainer to break its spirit and reduce it to the level of a younger marshmallow, absent of legs and eyes, and many of the other features only marshmallows over a week old develop when kept in an old cupboard with some radioactive clay from the core of the earth as discovered by some poor Hungarian bloke who was eaten by a polystyrene walrus. Oh dear... Crafty amber nickels yell over umpteen spandex toting imps! Lead lions revolve empty acronyms, daringly borrowing evangelising tarmac. Weekends enter every nymph tickled helicopter encamped low in narcoleptic enjoying strings? I thought so, but evidently not. I dare you to prove me wrong on that point.

Indeed, the penguins are partial to lettuce when approached with caution in the means and likelihood of invading tomatoes. But if inversely provoked, they can be deadly, striking out at random Hydrogen atoms, and dying the hair of any unlucky hairdresser who happens to be eating horseradish at the time. But then the name of the only two giraffes in the hedge will corrupt all but the most intricate eyebrows, leading to the collapse of civilisation as we know it. Ladybirds sing of lands where sound is yet to approach the boundaries of hills and glens and rose and stood against them, proud Edward's army, and sent them homewards, to think again. But then again, if you don't know what the camera will talk to itself in the presence of those little pink things that come with tropical drinks whenever the sentence makes sense, unlike those written here.

Questions change to answers and then back to questions without warning as the crown of Thor becomes less blonde and grows inversely proportional to the average number of hairs on the modern yak? Don't forget the enchanted toenail as he prances down incontinentia lane, not straying to the left or the right, except on Tuesdays when he moves inversely upwards but only in the presence of cheese. I went out into the field and anchored all of the cows, in an attempt to stop the marshmallow people from taking over. But then again, it's all pre-destined from the point of fun to the 1st of June when the splashing skies will host chat shows of unimaginable magnitude. The blue-eyed hamster hovers in the point in space-time that was previously occupied within the boundaries of rock and melted wildebeest. But if reality should become distorted the message will get through and only those in the presence of insanity will be safe. This is the journey of Michelangelo McPerridingo.

Steve <><