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After a hearty breakfast of roquefort and cashew butter tartare- Groves, Chuck and I decided to take our music in another direction. Instead of "rocking' we decided to "doilie". And we would have done it too, but then we discovered that during the night, someone had put the entire cave in parenthesis.

"I smell Thrumcap and Coil" said Groves.

Now, for those of you who are new to the surreal o rama, you may want to know that Thrumcap and Coil are dastardly spumekits who owned rock clubs that refused the gracious offer to be the first venues to house Evil Wiener and paid dearly for it-only to try and foil us by tying our pictures to the railroad tracks.

Needless to say, they failed, and what they were trying to accomplish by putting the cave in parenthesis one can only guess. Chuck, whose expansive knowledge of grammer rivals that of any queen or duchess used his Strunk and Whiteout™ to remove said punctuation marks and replaced them with exclamation points-the first of which was upside down and in front of the cave, the second being right side up behind the cave. This, of course derived from the language known chiefly as "Spanish".

Wouldn't you know that the San Luis Obispo Vocal Arts Ensemble all showed up for dinner. They were all the way cool! We've got some leftovers too. Hungry?

The Microscopic Messengers' Request

I've been trying for a while now to figure out how to make avocados more attractive. This seems like it would be a relatively simple task, but every time I start to do it something major happens. Today, for instance, I had just gotten started when these tiny airplanes that appeared to be made of tin foil came buzzing into the cave. They flew in some pretty rad formations for a while and then began circling above Groves' aquarium, where he was trying to nap. One of the planes sprouted a loud speaker and asked Groves if he'd like to come and be the king of a very prominent planet in an uncharted galaxy. Groves considered it, bu† bailed on the idea because we had band rehearsal that afternoon. That Groves, he is one dedicated catfish.

Add infinitum to a gumball and you've got trouble

Did you know that you can grow saltines in caves? Mr. Mouse has a whole garden full of them, which is great because saltines are all that Nosferatu eats now that he's given up blood. I like Nosferatu just fine despite his drinking problem-hey, we all have our weaknesses. Take Chuck, our drummer for instance-he's a great guy but he cannot resist those little machines that have stickers and toys and candy in them. You know, the ones that sit in the entrances to grocery stores. The wierd part of it is, that he doesn't actually stick the stickers on anything, nor does he bounce the superballs or display the glow in the dark aliens. Chuck has discovered a way to use these machines to travel back in time precisely one hour. He manages to get away with it because when the hour is up he simply opts not to use the machines as time travel devices again and thus the owner/manager of the grocery/drug/convenience store is never any the wiser. Chuck wastes a lot of time this way. I wonder if we should have an intervention?

Failed Flight Tastes Right

Today, I gave my mini-disc player to a little bird named Delila that couldn't fly south for the winter because of an orthodontist appointment. She was very grateful and told me that I could have her retainer in return for the MDP. The retainer melted in my front pocket and spelled the word "grapefruit" on my undershirt, so I guess I know what I'm having for breakfast tomorrow. Would you like some?

Bargains from the World Beyond

After waving goodbye to Jackfruit and Santa, Groves found some rubber bands on the sidewalk and decided to start making a ball out of them. Chuck was into the idea and began canvasing door to door asking for donations. He collected roughly 2,536,498,632,154,783 of them. The three of us then fashioned the ball and Yours Truly was the first to bounce it. Up, up, and up it went. When it came back, it had a note from a guy named Incongruous Johnathan who lives on Pluto and owns a shop that sells mini-disc players. He wanted to know if one of us wanted to buy one.

Well, I'd been wanting a mini-disc player, so I hopped on the rubber band ball and bounced up to Pluto. Boy, was it cold. Incongruous Johnathan gave me a whale of a deal on the player.

Dilatory Icons of Winter

Our eyes quickly adjusted to this spectacle, and it was plain to see that these were not just your average flying animals, but were indeed the famed flying reindeer of the North Pole-and that they were pulling a sleigh which was inhabited by the Big Man in Red.

Before I personally even had a chance to really fathom what was happening, Jackfruit and all of his comrades began to fly towards the sleigh, as though some kind of vacuum were sucking them up. They landed neatly in Santa’s bag.

Mr. Claus bellowed out his signature Ho Ho Ho and sped away with his new load of green oblong African fruit.