Sunday, 11 November 2007

Shark-Meat-Raffle-Picket-Line-Sensation


(This is supposed to be animated so click on it if it's not.)

We better get ahold of some preservative copy to print round the edges of our carbon receipts. Or at least crop the top mother fuckers. Thought plantains were cheap in Hackney which I said to the clerk she replied that's not what her customers say. Safou - Dacryodes edulis - African plum is sold in the Marcadet neighborhood of Paris from African women in the street sitting on crates with a duffel bag each full of the stuff. Must come in on a line. Maybe they rent the bags. At every corner round the proper markets, the plum was only sold by the women, black market. Then a rumour and a news report about a pregnant women beat up by the cops and maced and arrested a few blocks south in La Goute d'Or, she was selling goods without a license on the street. Safou two for a Euro.


"The African plum, a tree indigenous in the humid lowlands of West Africa, has its principal value in its fruit. The leathery, shelled stone is surrounded by a pulpy wall, about 5 mm thick, which is the portion eaten either raw or cooked in the form of a sort of butter. It has a mild smell of turpentine and is oily. The fruits are boiled in salt water, fried, or roasted over charcoal. The fruit pulp yields about 48 per cent edible oil, is rich in vitamins and contains a range of amino acids." (http://www.tve.org/ho/doc.cfm?aid=953)

Finite Love don't feed us, cadets, and there ain't no Actual Tricep Tree you can shake up to exchange for these atrophied snakes that our bones talk down at. But do we take it all down or do we take it all up? Anonymous Wiggers getting fed from some shit that I dribbled on her nape. I need my own cape to gulp our vacuum shape's crepe.

Flash. Cell phones full of Coltan. Watching "Congo" in Youtube installments and trying out a mustard bath (you'll never try it twice). Crystal-powered lasers on cock weights grinning out of hot air balloons fulla ape dudes with their own cock weights and coke to spare, gaping. I got this landing pad I like to crash my gear down on and up in. Kowalski's meat latté and meat sandwich on meat bread, crackers.

Delightfully yours until my ass begins leaking past the horizontal wall,
Invective Ray

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