Burnin’ Time

Chocolate . . . wax . . . liver . . . bronto-burger . . . these are just a few of the things I’ve tasted in my travels. One day I’m being fed grapes by Weena; the next day I’m watching the moon fall apart; then suddenly I’m running for my life hoping to avoid being the main dish on a Dino Dinner menu.

My head is spinning down on fascination street. I hope they can Cure me. Anyway, I’m kind of losing my mind in case you haven’t noticed. The light is light and the walrus is a Beatle. Or is the other way around? Look we’ve got to stop chatting like this. I’m outta here . . . we’re burnin’ time and it smells funny.