Friday, July 15, 2011

The Gospel According To Quark

As consort to an obscure but dazzling goddess named "Skayshe," and in honor of tonight's beautiful Buck Moon, I have been instructed to pass on the following recommendation from a man driving a green Honda Element with a witch on a broom dangling from its interior mirror: For the next 47 hours, you are to make bountiful buck naked love to your own sub-atomic particles. If the experience doesn't suck like a levitating hummingbird on magic red sugar water, get on anti-top and lovingly spank your own grinning green anti-bottom. By Sunday afternoon your liberated psyche will be growing like a velvet-covered antler from the forehead of a chevrotain in the rain forests of central Africa, where friendly purple lightning showers you with megajoules of benevolent ions in a sanctuary run by a kind young musical wizard who resembles the positronic offspring of Nikola Tesla and John Denver.