Failure II: The Sermon

Priests, priestesses, popes: let us all turn NE (from here, the epicenter of all that is Erisian), to the Mecca that is all, the Pentagon, and pray:

PLFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!

Erisian it is, they blow a missle--I mean plane that turns to liquid for the first time in history on contact--into a circular cavity through our sacred space.

Now shit. That's a verb.

Shit on Sunday. Eat the bun on Friday. What, you don't think that's what She and Bob WANTED?!

Get off the grid. Get off that one and that one and that one too. They simply don't mesh, don't cross sects, don't even exist.

Got it?

None are real. Reality is outside the grid, outside the box, where Failure lives.

Failure is our ultimate Freedom. Failure is where Fear™ hath no power.

That stupid, little demon: just kick him in the balls. Really. He cries real easily. The only thing he has is a mouth, and a really, really big one. He doesn't even have teeth--he tells you he does, but it's just more poop in his pants.

"Don't listen to the loudest mouth like it's the voice of God."

Just stick a lollipop in it, put the baby back to bed, and get on with it.

And Edwards, give Exedous back his magic marker.