baked potato machine personoid

The view here is amazing. I can see all of the internal organs, the motions, the neutrinos passing through the small brick passages, all twisty and ambiguous. I can see... oh, I can't even make sense of half the things I'm seeing and I'm still at 20 THz and the frequency is still rising. Tea is advised, though I'm taking a Silver Iodide break and listening to the Oxytangent at one of the upper bands. Because of the tertiary malnutrition of the Ponguent Fyrzgoose I have to have just a little dithyrambic diphthongue with my steak and tartare sauce mandanganar engine every half a cycle, but that amounts to nothing too interesting: I mean, it's just a fearful approximation of a much better ignorance class that I had to petition to be a member of, but reducing it to a solved class of problems wasn't that inspiring: it was dragged in the mud and I had to extend what I was saying with such vitriol that it didn't sound like me after a while. Some rotten implementation of the dog or the tentacle or who knows what was involved. And I wasn't relaxed about it. I was such a pile of nerves just trying to get myself settled after a fashion, and that was unfriendly and harsh and when the whole thing finally rolled to a rest it had gathered much in the way of solidified and encrusted proverbs on its surface.