Saturday, September 3, 2011

Tery's Tweets Part 6

>The Tree of Life can be used for a really entertaining boardgame. Winner can raise the dead.

>Some of my shapeshifter friends took me out last night, and showed me the tricks to identifying their kind. You are in for an ugly surprise.

>There is a second zoo deep beneath lincoln park. It hasn't been tended to in years, but there are still survivors. And they bred true.

>For all the mysteries in my job, the cat in the office is spectacularly ordinary. Dumb as a rock, but eats pixies. Can't be all bad.

>GAAAAAAAAAH! PIXIES! PIXIES! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

>We're bringing in exterminators. We use a 13 year old girl who's 'too cool' to believe in such silly things. She might get banned by Geneva.

>After several years of nonstop panic, I find that I get very little done unless faced with the prospect of being eaten by trolls.

>Align your spine one way, open your mind. Another opens a gateway to a higher consciousness. The third position opens a portal. Back soon.

>The best part about enlightenment: The universe. The worst part: The customs office on the way back.

>Every year we have to negotiate with the plants. You think this is silly? Look at detroit in summer.

>I found out that calling it SecondLife is a little bigoted. It's a little unsettling realizing that I'm Tery_Awesomelord's avatar instead.

>Its almost time for the Taste. Fatten up the tourists, and the trains will sleep all winter. Barbecue smell hides many sins.

>Ned told me that he feared nothing. When he introduced me to nothing, I learned to fear it as well. Nothing's wong. Nothing is watching you.

>When I was a child, I wanted a magic sword to protect me from all the bad things in the dark. At this point, I want a grenade. Magic or not.

>I saw a lonely ghost on the rails last night. Her tears kept sparking the track. She told me her story, and I wish we were more different.

>Mandrake grown in Chicago doesn't scream. But -boy- does it complain!

>Went to chinatown to get the most essential tool in a society member's disposal: a cleaver. Fine cutting, broad body, and speaking of bodies

>Grey day. Time to hide in the office, turn on NPR, do some filing and watch the skulls grow.

>Having a scar on your forehead doesn't make you chosen. If that were true, my scars would make me the greatest lover in history. Shut up.

>If you kill a salamander properly, you don't need to cook it. Its blood will barbecue the body from the inside. Good luck strangling it.

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