Just My Two Cents (if and only if in direct recognition and correlation with a more superior topic of Daily Insanity) Today I would like to compose a letter of an anti-warfare hospitalizationalizes economics in the aerospace divison of stellar concepts as organized by the oxidizing of a nuetral compound whos ions describe, in an abstract state, the forth coming of a millenium goevernment ploy to decrease the nationalism of other countries. Much of the comotion generated on an employee- hairdresser level can be attributed, not soley, but proportionalized between the ratios given in the 1944 NAZI party's electorate oxymoronish proceedings to disconjugate all nuclear timely sufferings in the equation produced against tax evasion in white collar communities with exceptionally high rates of tubular cover-up wrappings before the half-egotistical Nixon Campaign, to the general welfare of carbonic molecules inside of a gordidas wrapper of a resturant with an income ratio duely proceeded with, and in direct correlation with, the officiates on the member district jurisdiction in offly named Presidents and Counsil Members for a good America, or more commonly PCMGA. Due to the reports in the later half of a post-pnumatic strain of combustion engines that seriously strive to serve and protect houses of parlimental rulings farther away from any bold contraceptive thought between the immoral stages of the fetal feeding process in accordance with FCC regulations on the long forgotten realms when an anti-Russian missile took by surprise the ionization of alpha particles disturbing space-time continuems, which no-one seems to remember in part because of an old proverb brought about illegitimately in rise of conflict, the mindscape of so many has been changed by acts dawning upon an open mind that reaches to freeze the hands of time by asserting no pressure of insanity. To all this I wish to include, on a personal note, the strivings we cannot take and will not take as a human race. Only striving to self-perpetuate a parahumanoidarianised is what life's all about in concept of today's world generated by no light in retrospect of psycodelic happenings. Calmly I report to the end of this composition, leaving you solely to reflect on the words once conjured by a "great" man: "Hell, that's all it takes?" Sincerely, respectively, and utterly proportionalized, Tom Clark
Daily Insanity (the new year of madness) This is a composition of the lineage allignment of brain cells to produce vindicated testosterone in subject to the egnimatic occurences produced inder copywrite law in the sequential provence three, if and only if Canada seperates borders in a numerical fashion taking into account snow fall amounts between the ice age eras from each providence, and the space-time contiuem stay at intervals equalized by tubular pressure outside of combustion fueling fields yet nknown to the general public but corresponding to each floataion device of a Boeing 747. First I'd like to discuss the pompitous of love in which Webster has no answer for and the tropical breeze effecting the outskirts of Austin, Texas has yet to behold the nature of in theory. Boldly stepping forth with this new lingo of old and new favors to which Pentagon analizes as the El Nin~o of rock'n'roll, which is solely outdated to some molecular and psycodelic extent, but withholds its price in DOW industry because of Great Britian's influence towards the March of Dimes octathalon coinversely corresponding to lateral wavelengths of ionized 1984 particles of and from the Earth's core. To seperate any confusion with these "spage-aged" materials, scientists have fianally (and may I add, without warning) developed a way to freeze molecules and illusionise the effect on human brains that Jason's mom is a fat frigging bitch. With all technicalities aside, I am rest assured that the fat bitch resided as always a stingy whore since the eclipsical dawn of time. I won't evem get started with that one so I close with uncaptioned and abridged versions of MacGyver. Tom Clark
Daily Insanity So, today I embark on a frivilous journey into the realm of anti-warfare heaveness love. Yes, it is a subject we must all boundfully and indexously approach as we mark the existence of coexisting celestial bodies in a constitutional dubbing parlimental degree. So into the abyss we made through the darkness of a thousand nights. Mine describes possesion that I connect with Sahara and her two hour long curling iron expidition. So the questio is: Where's Brian at? But the answer is unknown to those of us who drive to the last passenger of life afloat. I must bow now and salute coexistence of prenatal love in the emense state of chaos and confusion that I that I call life order. So as to not conflict with time expendature in a decade of antitoxicant fluids I must close as I hope my point is clear and I may expand as I may contract at a later date. Thomas J. Clark
Daily Insanity Well, just for the recors I must shun myself in the orderly cosmetics of the terms endowed by myself to the seemingly imperialistic term of Daily Insanity. By contrast against Queen involved beings to which devote their time to insanity of school in sixth period, or for the idealise in ancient scriptumous maners, yet failing exactly the interstellar art of which only the human mind can comprehend and paradoxly not comprehend all at once, is that it's me, and against me. Pompitous can't even describe a yet undefined term of endearment by which we set our clocks. So I made the term, so as I have the rights to use it as I must, whether it shall be everyday or as I choose. Please, seat yourself and have a pepto-bismal for as you may give yourself a contusion, legion, ulcer or tumor, or if you randomize or reckon, I can not retract or withhold myself from ordering you up the platter of pain. It's your prudent analysis and it is imparitive. Help me now or forever hold your piece, yes piece, for I dream of self-perpetuatind a parahumanoidarianised. Thank you, yours, sincerely, pompitously, Tom! (el fin)
(10/26/98) Daily Insanity Buzz Clip You can wind a clock and you can hear the wind in the leaves, but you can't wind a clock and here the wind in the leaves. You can tie a bow and you can bow to an audience, but you can't tie a bow and you can't bow to an audience.
(1/19/99) Daily Insanity I lost a good friend quite some time ago, but ambidextrously his face still perpetuated the unconscious beholdings of the many cardiovascualar muscles in which it touched, not tangibly, but through immortal portals that stretch the space-time continuem. But throughout this wallow of time as the forgotten, but unforgotten friend's face hung at the window and never said good-bye. please, I'd like to remove myself from this subject and move on like nothing ever happened to break my streak of insanity laughing under pressure. We're cracking and all we need is to give love that one more chance. (This is our last dance) Well, the love is only defined by psuedenomical astrology signatures as all relating to a common pices sign. Hey, Suez, I know I am dying, and dying I am doing. For as which if I cannot in instance finish a train of thought completely. Oh Lord, I'm out brothers. I am out. This waxed and wanned and now behold, is over. Dammit, oh well... BYE!!!!! ~Tom Clark Nah, I'm not gay, not that there's anything wrong with that!