Music lover - NOT. Cranial harp burns.

Tried encyclopedia sandwich. Enlightenment! And headache.

Unimpressive FTL performance. Ship’s a lemon.

Cyclops implant hurts. Hat too small.

Salvage. Fuck. Shoulda been Inteceptor pilot.

Cauterized, regrown, siliconized, upgraded. Go, M*A*S*H.

Voting pod EMPed. Election gamed again.

Memories seeping. Gotta replace cortex gaskets.

Found planet, scorched same. Beer time!

“Fresh meat,” he gurgled, face-gears rattling.

Past-life overdose evidence? Reincarnatrex-9 empties. Everywhere.

Cranium resonating, she sculpted Symphony 40(3)B#.

Sex is over. Unplug her nuts.

Need real work. Humpin’ isotopes sucks.

“You’re cryo-Nazi? BARFIES. Cryo-Nazis’re SOOO twinkly.”

Finally unplugged, he realized: Meatspace *hurts*

Nuke Ganymede. Fuck ‘em. Earthers rule.

Six sexes? Pathetic. She hungered so.