onsdag 13 oktober 2010

More Framed Nonsense

As I behold the dark wake of the molding Chopper Demons my mind were set in ireful bloom.

My face turned the color of spinach under a thin bed of ice, as my legs felt like frozen cod fillets. The demon and the angle grinder wrapped in deadly ancient sin of shaved iron. Denial got ahold of me; the gateway to forbidden dimensions. I couldn't face another day with this nightmarish consciousness.

Robocop's fingernails came to rescue like a set of magnetic solar winds.

Welded in place they waited patiently for their final shower.

The final 660 degree Celsius silver solder shower.

And hologram cells in eruption danced around the newly restored piece of iron all the way back to 1947.

3 kommentarer:

  1. Nicke, the demons of Ursprung has got a hold of you I sense! Are you lost from the kingdom of Alterations and Modifications?

    A worried querie from the nether regions

  2. fuck man...that was a close one.

  3. Juxtapods, I'm lost from all kingdoms. And Dean, yeah tell me about it...