A story written three words at a time by Dash Kwiatkowski, Nancy Sungyen, Jacob Rubin, O.J. Patterson, and Frankie Castro, while driving from Los Angeles to Berkeley on August 26th, 2011.
Once upon, a cave woman prepared to hunt for red state governors, but she couldn’t tie her shoes, so she danced on the grave of techno lovers, and no one was the wiser for the experience. Her name was a heavenly whisper, and a dour in the hearts of many who dared to challenge her father’s dominion of wild boars and tame boars. Her goal in soccer was amazing! Bounced right off her dad’s head, like ya do, and his head never recovered. Eventually, the new queen touched herself inappropriately, like ya do, which was the last thing anyone believed would trigger her awesome death by boar attack. In order to score in soccer, first, have legs, then kick ball. Easy as pie. This is what she was told by Bob Ross and his friends (Rick Ross, too) which made her levitate with rage, floating undead soul, and cool haircut, worse at soccer. That is all that was written in sacred scrolls, also known as Rick Ross’ diary, which was sold to Bob Ross, boss for bosses. It was totally long and overrated in her head, but not in her lower intestine, or her butt, which was weird for the time. The year was here and now, and not then: dawn of aviation, and end of dinosaurs around the time of break-dancing at the beach, like ya do. It was sad, but she got “Hey! What’s up?” stuck in her head one time, and thousands more responded in kind. “Hear about the crazy soccer game played by boars and German men in a pit drenched in rain and much blood?” she asked excitedly. Too much for me to comprehend, misery and madness and other stuff at the beach and the mountain. What a vacation in Concord, California, with dumb Concordians who are racist from Mars and Concord, I guess. Let’s never return, ever, ever, ever.