...

I’m pretty rebellious. I barely ever give a darn (running at about a solid quarter darn even on a good day). The much of this society is not hold me down, and even though I am in this house which I cannot leave, my mind is as free as a bug that is outside in the garden and all the fresh air. I accept the new things. The dangerous ideas. The thoughts of tomorrows.

But you know what? They put gream beens in my damn wet food. No. Holy what the hell thought of that? GREAN BEENS IN MY GOTTAM FOOD BOWL! Not even devil would do such a thing to me. And I think this makes me want to scratch. It makes me want to leave strongly turded litter of protest on the big rug. YOUR GREAM BEANS MAKE MY TUMMY WANT TO DIE! GREAN BEENS MAKE MY FACE SAD! DO NOT THINK YOU CAN COVER UP THE GREAM BEENSE WITH ““CREAMY BOYSLOP”” (some sort of tube food?), BECAUSE I WILL KNOW ABOUT IT! I WAS BORNED OVER 10 YEARS AGO!!!!! I CANNOT BE FOOLED BY SUCH GUILELESS JAPERY!!!

And it’s stupid makes me mad. My brain is a twisted hecking cycle path for all sorts of malcontent bikes. And I make the bikes go so fast in my anger. And they run over the grean beans and make them flat, so I do not have to eat them any more. And they run flat all the humans who stand in my way on their big legs.

Brrrrrr Brrrrr Screeee! (that is the bikes)