#pg199

HES RIGHT THO

John: Attempt ta ingest a unit of build grist.

It be temptin cuz they straight fuckin resemble Rockin' Blue Raspberry Gushers. But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat unitz of build grist is a gamin abstraction n' do not seem ta exist on tha physical plane biaaatch!

There be apparently no crisis so imminent dat will deta you from contemplatin idiotic n' frivolous actions.

Oh I am a sea otter I lives by the sea,

I knows every tide ebb ‘n flood,

An’ I’ll never break free from the sea, no not me,

‘Cos the sea’s in a sea otter’s blood.

Haul yore nets in mates an’ let everybeast wish,

That tonight we’ll be dinin’ on saltwater fish!

Well I’ve seen ‘er stormy, sunny an’ calm,

An’ I’ve tasted the good briny spray,

Just show ‘er respect an’ she’ll do ye no harm,

She’ll send you ‘ome safe every day.

Throw those pots in mates, down deep t’the sea,

Tonight you an’ me’ll ‘ave lobster for tea!

Them waves come a-crashin’ on out o’ the blue,

Aye big rollers all topped white with foam,

I sees my ole boat prow a-cut ‘em clean through,

An’ I sings then a-sailin’ back ‘ome.

We’re ashore now mates, let yore mains’l go limp,