Saturday 8 May 2021

"Patti" !!!!!!!

" Lets go Insta....!!!!" 

with a smiley bearded Potgang kinda smoleyface....

So, o'cose cos eez yank He doesn't actually believe in "miracles"

Never mind Lee Smolin and his wonderful disorders...


I shook his hand once and how precipitous.

Add all the equations of gravitational wave goodbye "bitch" to, 

"its her or me...CHOOSE"

Mix together using Serafina's broomstick min a big pot:

at least ten colliding Black wholes.

My Robin the little bastard whom knows via his sneaky little quantumply entangled brain

just where I am.

So he can steal my last pot of ferrit grub.

Higgs Bosons for fuckin lunch all thery'll have left the guile he has.

Bet it's a he.

The wimmin back on their patch beatin' the fuck out of each other for.

The best seat.

But to actually message the words to Sex Kitten "Dead Romantic.. you could too"

I mean that's not just i,possible, physics would indeed need to be

well, be

Any good and predict reality.

But Patti, she could not have foreworn

Nor him, the great hymn-him

written a lyric song or whole lifetime of cannons.

That could

Back to fizzics:

and broomsticks.

(will she be first? - she earned that place with her call on Chrissie eve as i stood in the queue of The Spar for...crap...texting "fascist pub" the wrong person - Godzilla's wife)

"fate" they say, well silly they.

Serafina twisting at full tilt pivoting as they all nowadays say whilst

figuring the latest cool potgang style charity byebye line to steal the plebs


never mind cash.

Before running away "bye bye"

They leave out "suckers" because that doesnt go down well around Petes dinner table.

Anyway i like Serafina even if she accused me of very vile thoughts at my missives about what i would like to do with her. In Uk a crime even if Serafina doesn't exist. Except as summit for the dads.

Back to her pot.

All the ingredients free. Stolen, not from, but because of The Waitrose bags.

Symmetry Theorems; Equivalent geometrics or is it algebra or just mafff; Itzy witzy bittiest little quantum friggin unknowables; Poor Albert turnin in izz grave ... "they found me out"; Maxwwell just fine but it doesn't account for the moods of my key little electronic, and how some days it charges and some not; conscious agents, gravy waves, oops did them, sabina's splendid ranting,  inflation and bangs and god there starting the first one maybe about a billion universes or so


And how splendid at last Prof Bri earns his incessant look-at-me "string theortists became a nasty narcissistic vainglorious cult who don't  know how to say 'maybe'" just like Christians and their self pitying deaf cult (assume nothing they are my best 'friends' - except when they do nufin as the community starves last a year-ago, cos radio 4 doesn't cover the stix)

Anyway, Serafina keeps pivoting from side to side of her cauldron with her big long stirrer, ignoring future leptoquarks as just yet another dream of some drug addled Californian, imagining more drugs if they got that research funding, and the mismeasurements measured in the Muon-g2 data were actually just down to a rusty switch in some superchip. In otherw ords Serafina takes it all as it was before pesky new 'data' and mixes it in, folds it over " ehhh down you bloody tenth string dimension who doesn't fit in my recipe never mind reality, take your place with all the other theories...and be mixed" And she does indeed come up with impossible M Theory, or the long awaited big bowl f cherries all mashed together into and is known and is predicted by all os it works.

They still couldn't dream an equation that predicted that..hug.