Damper Dan mired in mud, tried endlessly to alter his physical self, his emotional self, his mental self, to escape the dire trappings of murky quicksand. He quickly realized the harder he tried the deeper he sunk himself into this quagmire of self loathing. He realized as he sunk deeper and deeper into this self loathing Hunter S. Thompson clay that the only help he had was within himself. “Tie your boot straps up! Pull your eternal strings together in the chaos of universal expansion. Listen to alien poetry. Read the writer of life is suffering. Become existential wrap speed. Be like a tree and leave the reality to reality. Make eggs. Realize that a one egg omelet, is an oml. Become a numbskull of nutation. Utter an oblique obligatory obiter dictum that objectively identifies the problematic inflection ingrate problem. Live only for the love of her and to her. Amen!” says Dan  

Styrofromulus really wants to save and love the love of his life April.

It had been a week of tension, long days, hard nights, the waning moon. Damper Dan and the love of a thousand years and a thousand more were reposing by the soothing fire of elm, quiet, quick burning a perfect choice for the falling dusk of a troublesome time. As Dan turned to April his love of epoch millenniums, a couple of weeks before Michaelmas Day, he noticed their Yorkshire Terrier; Three pound two ounce, Hera; one bad little bitch (She was a girl), at excited poised hunting position in front of the crackling fire. Upon better examination she had treed or cornered a frog. “Wooh” thought Damper Dan, with a quick flick of his wrist and the handy pointed shovel he vaulted, said frog high into the air where a clear blue bubble formed around it, and it floated high in to the sky emulating a nearby star. Again and again a frog appeared each time flung into the air it was surround by a clear blue bubble. “Damn!” thought the little dog Hera, “I really, really wanted to lick one of them frogs.” So commenced the story of “The Three Frog Night.”

Styroformulus decrees his sorrow for being bad: “Birds and Blunts, Bridge of Sighs, Whooping Cough Crane, Cardinal Red Sky Topography, Brown Leaves Rustle Mute, Impending Fall Silence, Wanting Nothing, but, You Now and Forever, Seek; Truth, Of You.”

Listening to Pink Floyd’s “The Dark Side of the Moon” and balancing a glass of red wine on his head, Dan had been slathering biscuits with blackberry jam, with the back side of the spoon of the velvety goo. With the fire crackling and smoldering with the heat of old oak, Dan wondered with amazement at how synonymous “The Back Side of the Spoon” was to “The Dark Side of the Moon.” Dan realized as old age was setting in, maybe he had found the answer to life, or at least a way to hum a few new lyrics to an old song.

Styrofromulus awakes after a long wild night.

Damper Dan had been rolling westward for days across the vast arid desert. His mind could only imagine cool quinching liquid refreshment. Upon high noon of his solstice of many days he encountered the elusive western refrigerator. 

Styrofromuls is really in love forever. He speaks, “We don’t need no casserole up in this church, we got pure Love for each other!”

Damper Dan was really under the weather. Feeling blue as a cow in the slaughter house, he thought he saw light at the end of the tunnel. “Is that a Bucky Fuller geodome? He knew all would be well if he could just reach his goal, a house of comfort as round as he.

Styrofromulus makes a banner: “April, I Love You.”