<p>so she ate</p>
<p>her own feces</p>
<p>with her son,</p>
<p>with one eye</p>
<p>and died before</p>
<p>she got up</p>
<p>and killed herself.</p>
<p>She then came</p>
<p>...these aren't even making ANY sense anymore...</p>
<p>back to life</p>
<p>as an anaconda</p>
<p>with two Toyotas</p>
<p>offered her a</p>
<p>big fat salary</p>
<p>with a fruity</p>
<p>juicy watermelon and</p>
<p>internal combustion engines.</p>
<p>Just in time</p>
<p>None of this makes any sense anymore. This is like an exercise in the automatic writing of the surrealists. </p>
<p>Goodness, but I cannot stop, man!</p>
<p>, The Golden Girls</p>
<p>ate the soup</p>
<p>and combusted themselves.</p>