Assassination and Infiltration

[sawyl]

I was going to go to bed early today to prevent myself from going insane from exhaustion. But it doesn't look like it's going to happen. The going to bed early bit, I mean. The madness through tiredness thing is pretty much assured. So instead of catching up on my zeds, it looks like I'm going to quote random nonsense. Something that may in itself be a sign of my weakening hold on reality. Anyway, here I go:

August 2, 19XX. She's not a girl who misses much: She's well aquainted with the touch of a velvet hand like a lizard on a window pane. The man in the clouds with the multicolored mirrors on his hobnailed boots. Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy working overtime. A soap impression of his wife which he ate and donated to the national trust. "I need a fix cause I'm going down, down to the bits that I left uptown." Mother Superior jumped the gun. Joy is a hot revolver, yes it is. When I hold you in my arms and I feel my finger on your trigger, I know no one can do me no harm because Joy is a hot revolver, and he is afraid of the monkeys who are in possession of digital...

If I'd gone to a school where they taught this sort of thing just like Marcy did, I too might have turned out to be a productive member of society...