Monday, December 17, 2012

Letter Fifty-Two

I have good news Smoggmaticus! My time at the asylum grows short, it seems that the board has gotten tired jealous of my ranting and insanity quick wit and devilish good looks and has begged (Mwahahahahah! I repeat, begged!) the neighboring province’s doctor, Hurdek the Physician to take my insane and annoying overbearing and incredible presence to his unworthy clutches.
He owns a notable psychiatric installment in the province of Whotheheckcares, and it seems that he will be coming to get me soon enough. But, I have a plan of escape, indeed! I have been conniving for three days straight and have figured out my escape, for you see, they will not be taking me to his hospital not by space ship or submarine as I thought for two and a half days as you might have suspected. And so, through many hours of thinking, I have realized that I will overpower the guards with my handy dandy Can of Ferret Bile deodorant, which I smuggled through customs many years back.
Indeed, they will no doubt have much less guards at the hospital, though their notable hypodermic needle sub-machine guns could pose a problem brablum. But I have a plan.
1: I’ll bash the guards flying me there with my above mentioned deoderant Can of Ferret Bile deodorant and fly away before they can recuperate and give chase.
Awesome awwsumm plan isn’t it? I thought thot so too. Well, now I must go prep my arsenal (Can of Ferret Bile deodorant, probably infected unfiggted lump of liver; and extra pairs of socks) before the under-bred undrbread guards come to take me away. Oh and all that stuff about me being insane ynzane? It’s all
Thine eyes are liken unto a squishy plum, freshly plucked from a blooming corn stalk in winter,
Thy lips are like swollen pools of hydrochloric acid, with toilet paper spires clogging the sunset
Thine armpits
bogus bogguce, and I say again, BOGUS!
Farewell varwull for the present.

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