Ass-assination of Amygdala Jones

If you can remember what it was like to be an organ in a wurl without bone around you;
If you can imagine your own medium, what you breathe so to speak, doubling as armor;
If you could see in every direction only by manipulating basically the optic nerve alone;
You would begin to resemble our homegrrl, Amygdala Jones.

You might feel bottom-heavy, like you want to scream, "Don't pick me up!" when he greets you at the airport, knowing yud break. And it's hard to move 2 pair of lobster claws across a polished marble floor with so much weight. Some would call you paranoid. But you're misunderstood.

When yor skin is soft as a toad, the body a shapeshifting load, and your interface, peeled grapes on noodle stilts, is all over the place, you begin to crave solids. Like vasa deferentia, you may only be able to make a difference with a second opinion and the help of additional fluids.

Cumulative parables such as these beg the wisdom of unconditional evolutionary confidence. Amygdala Jones couldn't help putting feelings at the top of her tdhu list. When you haven't any lids and there isn't a drink in sight, one can only hope that tears are general throughout the hood.

Fragment, "To the Student"
Sin-Gaberra Ms., shards 6a-d.
Ass-assination of Amygdala Jones: Princess or Goddess, It's the Same