The rabbits steady diet, or...spring greens on the tips of my brain stems...

Something is very important about a pine cone on fire. If it weren't for the semantic meddling of Baconian kids I could probably get away with it. I'd be on the other side of my ring finger through the star shaped wrinkle in my nuckle if I could just play the right octave of orange slices. The serpent rope would surely ascend and the flute playing yaks would gather for fermented milk from the lotus spore nipplocity....any similarities to the living or dead or the last thing you grocked in your specifically dense bowl of Alphabits cereal is purely coincidental. No really.