The alpaca are drunk.
We need to die, quickly.
The government has taken my alpaca.
I’m going to break the alpaca out.
They need to be free, like birds; or like alpaca.
Tonight my left nut swelled to an enormous size. I showed it to my sister. My sister said, “This reminds me of when we were twelve.”
My sister gave birth to my son Knut Hamsterstein last July. The child is already dead; Knut stuck its finger in a light socket while my sister and I were drunk. The government didn’t press charges.