Idiot.

I swear, all you amerikins are just so damn stupid. You wander out here, fine, be that way. The sproinking monks will get to you eventually. Trust me. I caught one snuffling around my garbage can the other day, and had to chase him halfway up the block with my anti-aircraft rifle that Su was kind enough to lend me. Nevermind that it's shaped like a turtle, it makes up for it in bitchosity.

By the time I caught him and taught him a few things about my Sacred Garbage Cans, I realized I had run all the way to Harajuku, which is a pretty fair distance. I wondered where hide was, since technically I felt like a Space Monkey Punk about this time.

But of course, he wasn't, since according to Zan, he's out on Mars with all the other Shibbio-troids, such as Kami and Kazuki.

It was at this point that the stupid guy sproinked out of my line of fire and into a tea shop. I don't really like tea, so I turned around and headed back home. Back to here, which sucks, but not really because Zan is telling me amusing things about the Dictators and their evil plot, and why hide is not dead. Donna, who was in japan when he was of this earth. Shed a tear and kiss a flower in the bay.

The California girl is a wonder. I must partake in her presence tomorrow, which means no Miyavi, although technically Miyavi was supposed to die today and I've got 33 minutes left to go on the first one, no way in hell.

oh, fook

- -

This is the way we skip and skip, lalala, lalala -

THE JUSTICE HOLE; STANDBY FOR SUPER CREDITS -

mumble mice of the fourth planet -

I am the person pouring my beer into your bunny slippers -