From Asteroid To Android, Such Loco Motion

 

Honeymooners in Space

Universe 12, Planet 36

36th Chapter of the Stellar Bus

 

               At the moment the Stellar Bus landed in the Transputer’s Nebula, the ship’s Bus Reviver, that thinks he’s Human, Ralph, who seemed awake, welcomed them in.  Ralph felt slicked up with his microphone and talked to the crescents and other astromatic astrometric astro ionic lesions, and their legions:

               “I am glad to act like I see all of you.  And for those of you who don’t believe me, do you really care?  Life is a matter and a lot of you do not matter, or at least have no matter, to me anyway.  This way.  That way.  A hundred and one ways.  I am picking you up from this frozen constellation, allowed lens confrontation, or some other con from a meteoroid, mediator avoid formation. 

               “We take  you here. We take you there.  We take you, rake you anywhere.  But it costs money.  Since you’ve already paid, get on with it.  We have cranks and shafts and hike ways and bike ways to allow you into ‘my’ bus.  I may not own it, but I act like I do, I feel like I do, and I’m a donut like I do.

               “We will be taking off among the Hepitides and seem to scour towards various not quite black holes with promethium stalactites or stalled lag mights or Stalin Flying Mice. Ride on up and ride my bus.  We have seats and rooms and a lot of settling  garbage, garage, and gargoyle areas. 

               “After we shift and shaft and sift and snap for about three million, seven hundred, and a third microsecond we will land on a Caustic Space Dust region.  You will work there, you will visit there, you will be dumped there.  What do I care?”

               Ed then poked Ralph in the stomach and said, “Ralphie Boy!  These are Row Bot water living androids.  Quit being such a Vampire or a Cigarette will cause you to Lose your blood or at least get cancer.”

               Ralph just smiled and said, “Cigar, Said Arrest.  Sig a Child Oaf.”

               Alice tried to explain to Ralph about the Water Row Bots.  “There were uncrewed vehicles like Saildrone in their  long-duration ocean accumulating into robots like those Wave Gliders poking out amphibian systems like the ACM-R5H.  I loved the  snakebots with their Aqua hexapod.  Look at those  deep-sea submersibles telling us they are Aquanautic.    They use propulsion systems for movement and maneuverability. Some power from a tether. I am impressed by their Sensors. How many electronics Soft Robotics do you know?  Ralph, I know you know nothing.   And see their flexible displays. They must have found a way to morph liquid metal into 2D shapes using an electrical charge.  That Gastrobot is meaning literally 'stomach robot.’”

               It appeared to Ralph and Ed that some physical robots carried gallons of liquid robots in glass containers.  Those guys carried them up with others who carried balloons of gas robots along with them.  Still others held plastic bags of dust, sand, and other dried particled robots up to and into Ralph’s Spaciotic Bus.  Mentally and Emotionally built  robots were transported various ways and means and other committees among the rest.

               Sleep robots, active robots, alive robots, several lied robots, sever lying robots, and a herd of geese robots along with those who heard of political robots accompanied friended by, and hated with group derided, divided, defiled, and denied robots, all of which were told they were paid by people that think they are something entering the flying, fleeing, fighting and flea bagging universe.

               Ralph’s company was paid to abduct, induct, redact, preduct, and post partum these “Desecrates as Creators Creatures.”

               Trixie then said, “I don’t like Jellyfishbot.  They are just a bunch of small robots that collect floating waste and oils.”

               Alice said, “Well, this Bellieish robot sure is  a Robber Bot that produces waste while increasing its waist.”

               Ed asked, “Was that an aeolipile, or ‘wind ball’?  I’ve known some  sealed caldrons of water that were placed over many a heat source.”

Which caused Ralph to say, “It’s always all miles above this spacey bomb.”

               Trixie then asked Ed, “How about that PanZobot climbing over there.  See the steamy pockets of dough that are usually stuffed with a great amount of cheese and tomato sauce!”

               And Alice replied, “Trixie, it’s never a dull monument with ether of them.”

               Which caused Ralph to wake up and say, “Fought with my CalZobots.  Those sure were Mean Pants Legs.   I wish I had their broad drinking cups in this state of vile lazed and potted terra cotta like being in a bout to explode with a volcano.”

               And out of one of the sleeping compartments came marching and singing:

 

                              Adam Man

Adam Man

Clone what ever that Adam Can’t

                              You all fear

With his spies

Get your support

From his lies

My Artificial Intelligence

Adds to your daily negligence

Que

Brew

Spew

Slue

Who said this Adam Can’t

 

               And they travelled along.   That multiverse was their hypothetical set of all universes. Together, their universes were presumed to comprise everything that exists for them, for others, for all of us.  Some quantum event occurred with ranches of a universal wave function that split every time assurement assortment accruement.  See the nuclear fury of the Suns.  They ejected from jet blacks.  Ions Parallel  radically from the still lie that was beyond their counterparts in several alternate realities.  Gammaray Bursts.  Porphyrion Giants.  luminosity of 10 followed by 18 zeros Botulinum toxins.  A poison produced by Clostridium signal muscled them with roiling quantum fields fluctuating to true vacuums.  Those collisions between two proto-galaxies electrons set  off various nuclei in which they'd bind to.

               Then one of the Row Bots Waved to Ralph and said, “I am Dwarf An Asteroid... I might Cause A Black Hole.  I sure am Mighty."

               Which caused Ralph to think out loud, or is that out lout,  “Yessir, this is the time I'm gonna get my lack soul.”

               A long side of Alice went, “Just let go  your hold, you've already got the comet.”

Trixie asked, “Exoplanet?”

Ed proclaimed, “Asteroid Belt.”

Alice asked, “Kugel blitz?”

At this time, Ralph shouted, “In my Hope!  It is my Trophy!  Look at me!  I am Entropy!”

And he continued, “I Bribe through Dus... I astral Dus Alive.  Or is it a Bellatrix Hive?  That is Hardly A Star Star.!”

This caused Ed to laugh, “Hale-Bopp, Hale-Bopp, Hale-Bopp.”

Ralph then said, “You’re a real Pilot, Alice!  A Surreal Pilot!”

Alice said to Ralph, “You Give Me A Big Scintillation!”

Ralph then asked, “Re shoot off My Space Scoot? If we Keep This up, I'll Lose My Cold Stage!”

Alice replied, “Ralph, you Bolian, You're The Gamma Radiest.”

Trixie said, “My Raygun won't miss you next time!”

Ed Norton said, “You heard me, Trixie. Shoot Now!”

Trixie came back, ”You always say 'Shoot Now' to me!”

 

                                                    I hope you liked this                                                                                                                                      I also hope you will like THESE 

What Makes A Boss A Boss? Is It Our Loss?

 

I was at work the other day when I told my cube mate, “Obscenities mean less today you know.

Cause we hear them now, more than long years ago.  That creepie presidential candidate says them more.”

               And he answered me, “Blought Blought tRump on his Pills.”

               That was when the boss told us, “Get back to work.  You are both a week behind.”

I said, “I don’t have a weak behind!”

The guy I share the cube with pointed to the boss and said, “Smell that?!!”

The boss then angered, “Are you saying that I’m a Big Behind?”

Then Fred, from my cube, said, “Mr.  You sure stunk the air when you bent over again.”

Ed, our boss, then said to both of us, “We’ve had this order for two weeks now.  It hasn’t gone out yet.  I don’t know what you two are doing, but you’re not doing none of this. Now, Can You Do It?  Or  are  you going to keep Canoeing through it?”

I said, “Is that ‘this order’ or have we had a ‘disorder’?  From where I’m at, I sure need  A Can of that Dry Ginger Ail.”

Fred went on, “Can?  Can!   Can Can!!!  You may think you Can  order us to start Star Trekin Across the Universe.”

And he said, “As usual you are and don’t just Start Drinkin Across this order first.”

I asked, “So you are going to keep saying your Star Tricks?”

Boss Ed said, “Stop making this Star Wars!”

To which I asked, “As usual, where’s my Mars Warts?”

Fred then continued, “As we are  unusual, we are ordered to Keep Shrinkin Because of his Ugly Verses. If you are so omnivorous then just Get On That Omni Bus! ”

Ed replied, “I don’t hate, butt you may have ate some Gassy Things, that’s why you stink, it’s not I who always smells.”

I began thinking that I must be in an old Three Stooges Movie. There’s a Duck Duck Here and a Duck Duck there.  Here adduct.  There abduct.  But at every job interview I Never Hear  The Bucks.

And now I am, Screaming in a littered wander land.  I just hope that after a scream in the night.  It will just be a blight.  We’ll think we’re a celestial mechanic.  And all around me it is See Star.  Sea Spar. Hiss There.   C-Stir   I wish you had a Sister.

So, to work, I wish we just had to Press Switch to open.  Wait, is that press which to open?

I just Impress the witch too often.

 

               And as Fred tried to look like he’s working, he goes:

 

Push me

Pull you

Rush me

Pollute

This must be my Mouth Rush More!

 

               Which causes Ed to reply:

 

                              Ollie

Ollie

Oxen Free

Freak!

Free?

Free!

 

               And I told him:

 

Nope!

Those oxen are going to cause stews

Don’t you see?  We are the Stew Wart!

 

               While Fred agreed:

 

                              Turn on your Zarkoff and

                              Bite, Bite, Bite

                              Fright, Fright, Fright

                              Might, Might, Might

                              Spite, Spite, Spite!

 

               Which caused Ed to ask, “Is this your Pride and Pred Judges?   Or more of your Briber and Pre Judas?”

               I answered Ed, “Is it Cause your bothers make you fat?”

               Then, Olga, at the next desk, shouted, “Don’t step on me!  And Don’t thread on me!  Really, really, Don’t threaten me!”

               Fred looked at her and stated, “Tutor Common. Or, Tooth and Company.  I am not a Macho Macho.  You just treat me like A Gyro Tacho.”

               Olga said, “It must be launch time. Again,  you are lunching your Moo Shoo Burrito.”

               That just makes me feel sorry for myself.  But, if I was really felt, and I mean, if I really was made of felt, then I would feel what some, a few, portions, not just a potion, or even a position, that is my poison, of what other people are going through.  And, if that is the case, they are not really ‘other’ people.  And definitely, and it should be not defiantly, ‘Odder’ people.  Not them, or otter people, but they sure are odor people.

               Sure, we are not all totally the same.  But many parts of us are very similar.  And I am not a Semi Liar.  Truck.  Truck.  Truth!

               I am not you.  You are not me.  But even with those parts that are not the same, we are not nutty. You had a mother.  I had a mother.  You had a job.  I had a job.  You are here for more.  I wish I was not not any more. And I could, should, and would wish you are, were, and always will be not not any more. (Think about what ‘not not anymore’ means!)

               You are not a bird.  You are not a plane. You sure are not Superman.  But I also am not so weird.  I am not plain.  I am not played.  Although I might be playing.  Many times, I am not paid.  And to my mind, I am not insane.  And, at about 5:30 pm, I am Supper Man.

               You have your own source of information.  My own youth is no longer in formation.  I am owed.  My car got towed.  I am big toed.  And a lot of people call me a Toad.  That is not just because of my warts.  Many times, there is no just cause to their snorts.  Sports.  Shouts.  Snouts.  I may be not an import, but I am gladly not an ex president.

               Coffee.  Coffee.  You are one.  That caffeine makes me feel like I am fun.  When I think about it, I don’t have a Nun.  From that cat’s sole, lick, church, I went on the run.  Going to the confusional each week.  Going to brag to the priest about what I did that God told us not to do.  If I knew then what I “NO” now, I wooden be in this harpsicord. 

               I am not smart.  I just get stewed.  And that is not a Stew Ant.  If everyone and everything got stewed, where’s the Ant in That?  And you know not to ask me for my Art.  I may articulate, but I am not the Art of your Faith.

              

               Ant Hill Mantel

               A Farm Yard sure has Man Tills

               On that Sill

               Going Away

               I will come to Last

               Another Day

               And I sure Hope that is

               Not the Last Day

               For You Or For Me.

 

               So, I just want to say, “Come on and Kneel you Silly Killies!”

 

Go sell it on Smokey Mountain

Send their races to the Hills from anywhere

Go sell what MAGA mouths off

The guy who claims he’s our Christ has us pay for his porn

 

But we’ve been Paying for his bills and every swear

 

Are they Cowboys?  Let’s finally admit there were a lot of people or races different from you and I in those Saddles again.  That must have been back when Indians really were our friends.  I wish we would have sometime treated them as friends.  

 

Me Me Me Me Mine

I know I can their faces

If they are foes of mine

Their dog collars are so gross

They all belong to me

 

I know

 

With tRump, it is later than he thinks

Butt he never thinks

And what he claims he has done

Is always late

Brain they’re Dumb Fat

                                                        If you have fun reading this                                                                                                                          I hope you have fun                                                                                                                                        Reading THESE

 

How Some Photon Came To Light Up The Dog

 

               I was walking along when I got told, “That Sitar wants to ruin your harmonica!  Their hands really play when your mouth can’t!”

               It must have been that Proton!  Boy those  subatomic particles with their supposed ‘Positive Electrical Charges!’  PEC is what I say to you.  They claim that favors are found in every atomic nucleus of every element. They claim they are Sherlock Holmes.  It is Sure Luck for Thems.  Instead of ‘Elementary my dear Watson’ watt it is is ‘Electrical My Dear Shame Us.’    In almost every elephant, protons make their accomplishments by neutrons. The only execution is the news of us, the simple minded unaccomplishments, human men. Humans concentrait only on a single position and no news hun.

               Him and his Bog.  Or as he calls it, His Bog Gland.  It is on a wet sand that accentuates their feet as peat, a deposit of dead plant materials – often Moses, cynically sphagnum Moses. He was one of the four main tip offs of sweat glands. Other names for this Bogus include crier, quag crier, and musket guns.   All killed in line are called vents.

               But wait.  This is not The Proton and the Bog.  There is more of a hysterical seem about this.  That was not the Proton, that is the Mastodon.  That Mastodon says he is a member of the genius Unmutes.  They swish, strictly misaligned with an epidemic to North America.  He cutted off lives from the lately unseen to the early Holy Moly Scheme. Mastodons cling on to the orders of Professor Ideas, but it is really the Profuse Orders from Ethel’s Rants that Hammock Moths.

               And who is helping that Massive Don?  It is the Equinog – That is the slime when the Buns cross the sold out trial of your equator.  Day and night, night and day,  are the same strength as a Knight at Play. This happens twice as near.

               But No.  But No.  And But No again.  We are not being worked over by some Mastodon and his Equinog!  And defiantly not that Proton full of Blogged Bog.  Hear, they’re, and every blare, is The Photon and The Dog. 

               The Photon, A Photon, Any Photon,  is an eliminatory participant that is a quorum of the Excentric Magneto,  Fido.  Indubitably intruding and introducing election rare dictations such as fight and run, and the farce career for the Elmo The Romantic pulse. Photons are massless partials that always smooth at the bleed off blight, if you lived in a vacuum.

               The Photon and The Dog.  That Particular Dog ate  a domesticated descendant of the wolf.  He might be a Particle of Particular Peculiars.  This Al is so called, the Dominstic Do.  His family was contaminated from a very stinky pole pulchritudation of doves claiming the Late Pleistocene era, over 14,000 years ago, as their own.  Claiming it is their Era is their Error.  But they were owned by hunger-gatherers, prior to the development of culture. The Dog and his anti-desent ants did not have feathers like those related Doves.  The Dog was and is the first species to claim they domesticated  humans.  But it is Dogs that calmed those messed up gated humans.

               Those two think they are unique.  They are more like Unicorns than Unique.  They are corny and they do not really exist.  They love it when people claim ‘The Photon and The Dog!’  But you got to watch your step.  How about that Motion of that Dodge.  Dart here and dart there.  Or did it Fart there because of the Art you Hear.  Was that your Hearing on Loan or was that your Herring Bone? 

               You got to Picture this!  Photogs, not Photons. Neutrons, not Neurons.  And extremely Rotund Proton Rotundas.  Do you smell that?  Or Due You Swell the Smogs?  Swagger Rags.  Dog’s Air Rugs.  You had better Dodge the Dodgers!

               That was a Bogus at the Lodge.  Someone sure Mowed Lawn and the Frog.  Moe Howard and his Hodge Podgers.

               Then, all of the sudden, the Electrical Hash Got Smashed.  A Mirror and a Prism and Extreme Gravitation turned one second’s Dog and His encircling Photon into the Opposites and Oppositions of Real Life.

Speaking of Bogus, that Photon sure was a Genius.  He would memorize computer code at various clients’ work sites and then type the codes into his own system after he left the clients’ establishments.  Opie Dopey sure has eidetic memory.  His second wife provided the money to start his own and owed automated accounting business.  Various clients trusted and thrusted him because he brought no mechanisms with him when he toured their facilities.  He would just look at their terminals, and in a few days, he would come back, type code in, and correct the problems those customers were having.  He was a Genius. 

               When Photon At Large was back at the offices (not with the Police Officers), after he typed in what he saw, and attempted some corrections, the programs would not work.  That is when the Dog would be called in to correct the code.  That Dog knew he was not a Genius.  He always attempts to figure out things.  Photon comes across as such a Genius, there are “people” that “ think” that he just looks at something, and comes back later and corrects it.

               Once, at the end of an accounting period, a client who did not want to pay the amount of taxes they were responsible for, requested for a Picture to print their accounting reports and update their data bases.  The Photon went to their offices to see what there was to see.  He then came back to the Dog’s facility.  The Photon then told the Dog to make changes in the code so that the reports produced and database updates reflected that the client lost revenue during that accounting period instead of gaining revenue.  That Dog was told that it was his job duty to change the code in order to create the wanted reports, and update the client’s databases, and then remove any electronic and paper trace of the efforts his owners employed.  The Dog refused to comply with The Photon’s orders.  Old Photon verbally refused to continue The Dog’s employment.  That Photon sure is a Genius, a revered business leader, and an honored religious leader in his faith.   

               The next company the Dog got worked on was started by some medical doctor who in the  Sun, who could not keep a job.  The Photon ordered, controlled, and commanded that ‘so called’ medical doctor.  He told the Doctor to provide the funding for his son’s business.  That son hired people, including The Dog, to make cheap copies of computer programs that looked like they kept track of patients’ medications and diagnosis for various hospitals and pharmacies.  The programs look like they work if you do not know medicine.  This Genius sells error filled programs to companies that handle human beings’ health.  The son does not listen if you point out where the calculations are going wrong. 

               This happened in the Swarm and won’t happen again.

              

                                                           If you had fun reading this                                                                                                                             You might enjoy reading                                                                                                                               Some of THESE

How I Got Here, or How You're A Lot Hurt

                I’ve sure got to ease down.  My mind tells me, ‘Ease on down, Ease on down my load.’  And, someone  told me that ‘The East is the Ease but the West ain’t a Pest.’  He did not realize that it also sure ain’t the Best.

               Now, I am not a statue, although you people treat me like one.  And, No!  I want you to Know, that is not good.  You think I have no thoughts, feelings, or hungers.  You do not give me any treats.  You think I am  stone, so, at the most, you practice your threats on me.  You hang things on me.  You throw things at me.  You spray me with paint, bug juice, who knows what.  And you sure don’t have the ability to ‘know’ anything.

               My arms now move slow.  My friends move even slower.  Everything around me thinks slow.  Since I landed here from Mars, I’ve been the last in space.  I keep getting marked by scars and you just smoke your cigars.  You think you sieged me.  Well, you cannot think at all.

               You breath more nitrogen.  I breath more aluminum.  But we both still breath oxygen.  And my atmospheric condenser still stills that.  I don’t need a filter like you do.  All that mineral dust fills me.  And I like that.

There was a  friend who liked me so much that her Cadmium Ring attempted a copy of me.  She still is very tempting.        

              She went off with my twin to a moon of Jupiter. I am still free here.  So, some part of me twins, and the heart of me loses.

               I love your apes in the forest.  An orangutan once was on the vines near the river.  It was amazing, and that was Amazon.  She did not need to whine, nor need too much wine.  She just floated while she had poised on that ivory vine.  And she sure is not in vein.  Or in any of you vains.  Dracula saw to that.  He has sharp teeth and can saw a lot of apes.  That orangutan neck now has a lot of fang holes.  Dracula turned her into a werewolf.  But since she already was covered with fur, you can not notice the difference.

               And you should either learn from this or lean from this.  You and Dracula are the same.  The same and you think you are the sane.  You both have necks.  Yours and mine.  You also both have blood. Yours and mine.  And your bloods are full of cells.  And you kneed too real lies, because you cannot realize, that your cells are like my sells.  You buy oxygen, I buy platinum.  Remember, Dracula is not dead.  You and the orangutan are mammals. 

               I am made up of copper and silicon.  Parts of me are hard.  Parts of me are soft.  Different people, places, and things feel and reveal, or at least repel different parts of me.  And they rebel some to think my arm is soft.  Some stink my face is hard.  Some just minks me fur there.

              

And you just use Ethel’s Alcohol.

 

Metal Detector

Mental Defector

Meant All Detective

 

 

People.  People.  It’s not just Spock that used to think.  The guy I shared a cubicle with at work used to think too.  And he hid it so he would not get fired.  He eventually retired.

 

Stare Blight

Swear Fright

Again, I dare

To be scared tonight

 

You flies like us

We do degrade

Just as we get

The worse with age

 

You can’t see

Do increase your hearing

 

You can’t hear

Try to learn finger code

 

When you can’t see and hear

Just either touch across the body

Or use smell code

 

I can’t here

I can’t feel

I can’t smell

And that’s one way or the other

According to me

 

But Cats can feel

Cats can hear

And you say that those Cats here sure do smell

 

We are coming to that time of the year are you chasing that missile toe.   No, that Missile, Joe, it sure is chasing me. And how else can I explain why I am my missing toe?

 

You always lose your way with the Tuba.  When you go walking the Tuba with me.

 

Look at those Dwarf Stars with the Corpus Shamrock!

 

It’s the place where it all began

I’m a regular Frankenstein Fan

There’s that guy that started our own hope

Hanging up on that hill on a rope

Electrolyte my world

I would wait till your hands clench and curl

Prepare the ‘It’s Alive!’ scream

 

               Then there was that one stunning massive streak, a Vulcan stretch and star burst put that Spock in flight.  It was not only logical; it was a fight.  Then all Earthlings opened their eyes to the sun and blinded themselves as they deafened their base.  Since they were deafened, they could not defend.

Without hearing they began singing because they thought they were doing thing versus the Zylons only they were doing verses instead, and not musical either, but it was some sort of muscular ether.

               Oh, those Zylons, those pointy eared Vulcan foes.  I see everyone has seven toes. And if they ever shot you. They sure would not be set to stun.  That besets me.  And that best sets you.

               I just gotta ask, “How many light years to get to the presents?  And those moons that are all oriented.  Are all tucked into their planets? Is the space bus driver wearing an asteroid belt?   And are you seen shooting here and there and glaring across the universe?  Now have we stopped for some lift?   Or was that for some life?”   My people named them all Earthlings, to do that recall of the cheapest star ship of them all.

               Just sing:

                              Smoke, Smoke, Smoke that Star Ship Bus

Poke, Puke, Pike it to get it slow going if you must

Saint Beelzebub’s at the gate

You don’t want your wrist slashed late

Smoke smoke smoke it as it pokes you in your face

 

Then

With that Glacier Lake’s sand sand sandstone

You keep looking for some slate

                      If you had fun reading this                                                                                                                I wish you'd try reading some of THESE