limbomatic Q

 

breakfast elevates the hearts for the action and fervor of feeding a desire for a twistery of taste by tongue through the thoughtful traveling of our gut feel, weighed in by sequences of tele-smacked up juicular pokery to match the eyes to the stomach, by surroundings of those in good company.

its true, that a hearty breakfast is indeed just, and that is the distraction needed for the exchange of phalange goo muckery on the keys to let you in on the notes, while simultaneously blocking out the 3D channels of talk radio, which, while surely needed at all times, these days, is a luxury to ignore for some simple damages, like this breadth of a poet, i am bicked on wicked up cherries and ferverments of elemental espresso.

it was and is this particular morning when Q planned to re-up his game of living in this the greatest trials of living cities, a san Francisco of a daily choosing, call it a town, or the villain by villages, but not ought to bother the bots which operate the interior spacings of the under utilitized internet..

rriiiiing.  it was a kind of morning where the ringing started right away and the answering came much later, to the tune of the late openers of the offices meant to discuss options on which and the othes and the weighing of means in a kind and gentle way.  oh to be social.

ducks indeed were in alignment, as comms sat idle but primed and with that knowledge, Q proceeded to lean a bit into the day by compartment department, imparted and stored like a straggle of shoes which perhaps needed a bit more sockery and the like.

waiting is a game played by those who wish to align their day through means and wills towards the beginning of any of those interactions which bear fruit, and so, the practice today is the disentangled bits of louped tape which have not yet been written, but were and are to be practiced a new for benefits of repetitious by non-repeating, digits by and five digits of the fidgety kindness which lands us into our next setting.

sip.  Q sipped a bit into the air and noticed his adjustment.  sirens, not in a priming state, but observed none the less, and coupled with the semi complimentary ticky and tackyness of the tick tack buildings going up in a down ground around the u bend for answers from 6 hours ago.

left, center, right, and all was in general order to prod into yesterday with a hook to just gently pull a string of yarn over a furry spot of brain and hope the fluff clears... oh no.. that's a horrible idea said that bit of brain, and snapped the yarn back into a ball and rolled it across the floor for the non-existent cat to paddle at for a bit.  oh it did enjoy that, perfect globe of a yarn not ever seen nor willed to again, and it clawed gently and bit it with its white teeth, from white fur, as a kitten, for how else would a non existant cat be not seen?

brief inventory on hearts of proceeding, as gently as the kitten, we're at carpet graded a levels with a preponderance of well, a necessity of wellness of 85 percentage points towards the naught, and sewing and farthings few but far from a singularity which is on the top shelving of deliciousness to be divided by a summarization of a chance for a bit of gamey whooshyness which is were expectation provides our Frinsten free-energy.

how can one return naught, when its keyed up just right on a board of punchiness, to align our famed character Q upper left and as strong as the oxen of moranic jest, we sift gently for the flower which was meant for a girl but instead baked into a tossed up pizza with extra everything for the numbness of a friend yet to be discovered.

Q rang meranda, straight up the telephone pole, or from molasses of rule 20, which effected his voice slightly, as warbly copper hit its trough through to the water table, and chair balanced for perhaps a later afternoon of the odd kindery to visit and jinker in a meditative relativistic zeroing out of ram+failed bits which, while unrecoverble, were kind enough to leave their artifacts of X OR and naught.  a further look at the situation brings the body for words and forwards yet the clock is our demonic reminder to set itself back 4 paces, which is to say make it so, as in pacemaker, the artificial electrics.

hello Q.. meranda finally picked up the phone after 23 rings.  she had also been enjoying the warble, at a 90 volt addition from her own table, and a glass of water which was only meant for jurassic park moments.  "you on the letter, Q?' she punched her query into the teletext on the lower thirds of her copper eyeball.  "the moet you send was a little runny, have you been eating eggs again, or is that his style?' she grinned.

"style, yes, as a comb filter at 60 may take the buzzing out, or it may level a playing field of bass which was meant to sign on to a techno dew drop, although I hear they're taking theirs' to 88 as per the triad and a soldering iron with flux core resin.  I had an idea for a hat.  oh at that gravity and time came up again, for a dream and more, where planets chattered for the benefit of their own clocking orbits in streams not ONLY seen but swam for and about and in a not so millionth of a subsecond to excite the next electron with those bits of signal carried about their mating rit and written for a gentle honor of self to as to be known in the patterns which produce our re-non-repeat, again and nagain.

"yes, the air is fair and still here as well.. it looks as if the discussion has suspenced the gaseous shifterys, and we appear here and there, though fractal on a corner shop side stop, slightly unknown by signal, and if only.. well we could do with a bit of clearance.. was I the first person you called? here, let me punch in a gesture just and slight, and.... herrrrre's the digit.  she flashed the hook, punched in 9, left it, and flashed back.  "ok we have 9 on a wire.. which means that bit is open from there to there, she motioned the point between the COs switch towards its next grounded electrics.. "it must be getting ansy.. why don't you punch up the rest.  she flashed them together.'

Q clackered in with a rolling set of tones towards the hill side, where Flix often slid around the faux wood flooring and flipped through news on her kindle, the paper-y reporting type which was intended as fact. "oh hello you two.. its time is it?  come on up at your leisure, the couch is always a conservation, and the fridge is working perfectly, for its intended purpose of heat exchange for the small collection of geneva-ites you've sent me.. what that them? they drew all over the frosting.. I think I may have gotten them a bit drunk, you wouldn't believe the poetry.  I hope you're not cross, Q".

"well, that explains this left foot, it seems to want to recite grim's fairy tales backwards without a cover, in hard back, but I'm staving it off for a smaller pocket book and perhaps a lesson in traversing a toroid of a lifesaver candy, and ween it back to paper, which is tougher than a soul whose sole purpose is to line a shoe-in towards our destiny of evasions.  or speak and spell would be a very boring game. but, 

Meranda butted in, "but we'll see the couch.. and it will see us, she joked.  it will take 35 minutes of travel, but lightly as it were, we'll preseed the notebooks and you can just toss them around to look casual and all and well in the ness of necessity, which is to say we have some extra scrabble for our city today."

"peachy", flix drolled in her usual tonal sparked voice, "and the tryst trust will carry on until the moon flips, folds, or otherwise indicates a tidal aloha in a manor liking to said doors towards the front and the rear of our, or, offices.  it's lit. u?

eh?, said Q.

sure," meranda piped down.  "did you know you and toy are very similar in language.. I wonder if that how kids feel bout themselves when they start using smart phones."

"oh behave", was the pop rock culture clubby bit meant to cue the music, and it did, meranda rose ths receiver up a few notches on her panel and plugged a quarter eighth into the vinyl cage, as she called it, flipped on a lighted LED single pole dual throw and scratched behind her ear as she hoped the scratchy record would find the diamond head, and .. it did.. deee-lite.  "leaving this on the level. punching out. all.. "  

they all punched on hold and hung their receivers in place.  

"see you on the inside"  they all grinned and turned and began to package up their daze for a bit more of difference, from within and about haptics.

. . .

and yet again, radio eleven brings you our EGS and counters of parts, partings, partying weighing in

 light and means for travel from the labs remote and unbearing F C C from a van named charley of the

 angular angel kind of ruckus which is meant to keep a school of fish from overflowing a tank, which

 has had a special dam engineering for it to do the crossover radio annoucements - this is aqua q in

 a singularity of a friday in toast motion, brown and huey, with a B B C bit for the kit set drum pa

tch panned left to right and jiggle just a bit like a potted plant. peace + love from loverly san fr

ancisco, sunshine et. al c 3 w