Javier and I found a big metal pole that was sharpened at one end and jettisoned it at the ground to see it puncture dark soil.

I hate the word "clown", but am puzzled by the word "edutainment." I imagine my eyes shooting red lasers. I would cook an imaginary hot dog in the sky akin to a God who's face appeared in the clouds to deliver a message.

My lasers will roast and toast the message. I hate sex often because I feel conquered by it.

A giant razor blade in the sky, and I shoot my eye lasers at it, but they bounce back off the cold metal and zap me.

I wish I had a flirt sensor. I would revel in it.