We are running fast

Some people love

Some just want a cash

So to sit and smile

Smoking blue hash

They sit around the fire

Sing those songs

Let yourself be free

Lonely mornings come

Now I have something

No deception is working

I'm on my way to good things

Nobody is laughing now

I'm walking through time

Bouncing through space

With space ladies

Inside a globe

Let it snow!
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It was all up to Breasts

And as usual Breasts was ready

There was nobody else like her

No competition anywhere

If it was to be

Breasts would be queen

Of the Universe!
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Seems like America had hit some turning points recently and with odd American magic the future somehow excites my curious mind.

The future may be a strange form of Jetsons after all?  So while Portaland and Austin try to stay weird the country accidentally is getting weird anyway and it was all along.  Sometimes to bring out barf bags and sometimes to inspire moments of extreme patriotism.   Only in America!!! 
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Sounds as sweet as love..

No pointed icicles to puncture

But holding the heart in wonder

Tasty with a touch of berries

Lights rotate green tiny fairies

Oh your ship sails with liberties

Letters to a children who writes

Say you are learning new hats

With the white swans into songs

Living longing for the art cries

Darling lets dance in mornings

Not with loss in your heart


Let your spirit rise

Do not shed a tear

Never do you cry

I am there for you

Dream can be true

Never do you cry

Do not shed a tear
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Thoughts stop here as brain power is not great enough to topple the Great Wall of China!


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Claiming great stuff does not address reality sometimes.


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Adapting can be seen as a beautiful word and not something negative!


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Are many people wanting a less narrow order to their life in general?


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Hard work has paid off!


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Save it for lass..

Wise people compute

Seemingly bearded

Her hands reaching

Oh no surprise

As she is a guy

With no beard

And dry eyes

Watching you

In that false sky

Where she say

I cry

Oh

I cry

As they cry

La la la!
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Get that thing

As

The stars wink

Heaven surrounds

Feet lifting off the

Ground

As the ultimate high

Her face lights the

Sky

Everything gonna be

Alright

Snap that thong

Yea

Taste that cake

Wake!
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Setting: Inside a dark, echoing bathroom plumbing line, right before a major flushing event.Urine: (Splashing aggressively against the ceramic walls) Look at you, slacking off as usual! I’m in and out of here six times a day, keeping this body filtered and clean. You show up once—maybe twice if the human had a fiber bar—and expect a standing ovation. You're slow, you're heavy, and you take forever to get ready!Poop: (Thudding heavily into the water, sending up a massive splash) Slow? It’s called craftsmanship, you watery amateur! You’re just 95% water and a little bit of leftover urea. You require zero effort. I am the grand finale of a 24-hour digestive masterpiece! I represent the steak, the potatoes, the complex carbohydrates! I have structure. I have presence.Urine: Presence? You mean odor! You completely ruin the atmosphere the second you walk into the room. People have to light matches and turn on exhaust fans just to survive your presence. When I arrive, it’s a quick, polite zip and a wash of the hands. I am civilized.Poop: Oh, don't act so pure. You turn bright neon yellow if the human takes a single multivitamin! And let's talk about urgency—you make the human panic and run like a maniac just because a movie ran over two hours. I have discipline. I give a polite, rumbling warning hours in advance.Urine: (Steaming slightly) I am the frontline defense of the kidneys! Without me, the system shuts down from toxic buildup in days. You're just the stuff the body couldn't even use. You're literally the leftovers!Poop: Leftovers? I am the ultimate metric of gut health! Doctors study my shape, my color, and my consistency on a chart like it's fine art. No one is out here making a "Bristol Stool Chart" for your boring splash patterns.The Toilet Handle: (CLANK)Urine: (Swirling rapidly in circles) Uh oh. Here comes the swirl!Poop: (Sinking into the vortex) See you in the septic tank, water-boy!