The Clayman Revolt (Or, How I Blatantly Refuse to Write About Things People Request)

The day Easter(n) Wind blew west was the day the Minnesota Contenent, ultimately, shriveled up and died. Bodies of Minnesotean land decayed and it's indigious peoples, the Claymen, were strewn about the atmophone. The Gentle Mollusk awaited patiently his own demise and with a gasp, disappeared, as all good things, regardless of how good, come to an end. And with him fell the Minnesota Continent. Some refugees managed to get out of the decaying half-donutesque planet and onto Aerth which rested in the Flower Continent, where the remnants were met with disrespect, seeing it as they were from warring continents, and were forced to live under inhumane conditions. This ultimately led to the Clayman Revolt. Shaken as the refugees were from all that had happened, they sought a man responisble for this action. Blinded by apathy they went ahead and captured Easter Wind and decaptated him, despite his efforts to explain that it was actually the Cosmic Duke that broke their favored thing or whatever. As much fun as murder and anarchy were, the Clayman peasants were, intrestingly enough, joined by men who's fates resided higher up in the hierarchy of the Flower Continent and began a worldwide revolt against alot of things that they didn't agree with I think, formely known as the Clayman Revolt. 

Upon receiving further news of the Continent's demolition and the rallying of the Claymen peasants, the paranoid Duke responded by putting the blame on high-ranking political officials, Manichaeans, and those who opposed his rule in general, mainly the radical leftist group (Dukist-Cannonist Commitee) the Duke created alongside American Trotskyist, James Cannon, which they both, were presently a part of, and afterwards flooded Central Asia in a bet he made with Roald Dahl. When things simmered down, he resurrected Easter Wind using console commands, but later changed his name to Blue 5, despite his apparent delicious yellow coating, and used him as artificial coloring in yogurts as punishment for ratting him out to the Claymen during his execution.

The revolt led to the overthrow of the Autonomous Republic of Aerth, and despite pleading help from other planets, the rest of the Flower Continent seemed totally indifferent towards Aerth. Aerth was now ruled by a pagan theocracy, as all of the Minnesota Continent once was, which was the main reason the Duke had destroyed it, anyway. Aerth had been renamed to Barlaam, Aerthians were persecuted and killed, and the Cosmic Duke was asleep. Many instances of the Duke were present at that time, like 12, but they were all actively engaged in a century-long game of mancala and didn't want to get out of their way to help mortals. After 14 centuries of ongoing war against the Aerthians, Aerth's native kinsmen were at an all-time low, forced to live in the wilderness and away from newly erected cities. Soon after, the Cosmic Duke woke up and threw all of himselves in the fireplace and shaved all the fur he had grown from his cosmic hibernation. There was so much clatter coming from Barlaam, which he blamed for waking him, that he flooded it with menstrual blood and populated it with crocodiles.

The Map Of Other Aerth

The Darker Polygon

-Informative

 The Darker Polygon is something that we can not talk about as it is Darker than the Darkest Polygon. It is forbidden to speak of but I am taking the risk to tell you that the Darker Polygon's demon to human ration is ten to one. The Darker Polygon is a place of murder and rape and bad things and all things bad. There is no law enforcement as there are no laws and no rules to abide by and that is why nobody goes there. Funk is not apparent in the Darker Polygon despite it being the essence that fuels the very Polyverse. They are the Anti-Funk. Not an Anti-Funkler. The Anti-Funk. They obliterate Funkchildren, mutilate them, kill them, destroy them. There have been times where the IGM, the Intergalactic Militia, a subsection of the IGLEs, have gone down there, never to return. I can not supply anything else to you except some photos. Unless I want the IGLEs knocking at my Funkhouse's doorwallfloorboardstep.

 Images Below: Various IGM Operations.

The Lesser-Known Yet Still Absolute Beings Of The Polyverse

 -Informative

 There are other absolute beings in the Polyverse besides the Cosmic Duke.
 There is Quarterman, which many Funkchildren claim to be a myth. He tried to steal the Cosmic Duke's throne, and was dismembered by a punch from the Cosmic Duke's mighty hammer, straight into his frail chest. He was banished to the barren Lighter Polygon, where he lives in solitude in a chamber, his machinery supporting his life.
 There is Bregghünstöfft, the God of food and other things as necessary as such. He is responsible for covering the Darkest Polygon with bread to alert the Cosmic Duke of beings that should not be.
Last but not least are the true Funkchildren. While everyone is considered a Funkchild and has a Funksoul, There are very few that are truly born from Funk itself. Ponko and Dongle are two of the few true Funkchildren. Funkchildren have the opportunity to become Absolute Beings, or demigods.
While all three beings referred to in the excerpt above actually have a higher status than the Cosmic Duke, including the Cosmic Duke himself, actually, as he has the highest status no matter what I say, so he is forever God. I forget why though.
Something about tooth enamel.

Image Below: Consequence Of A Normal Funkchild Attempting Ascension

Why Pictures From The Polyverse Are Distorted

-Informative Article

You may have asked this to yourself before.

"Why are so many of the pictures black and white?"

When color pictures were created in the Polyverse, the quality was a lot worse compared to the usual black and white pictures. This was met with a large disapproval from the Funkchildren in the Dark Polygon, and even the Cosmic Duke preferred black and white pictures, and so they stuck.

The pictures come out so poorly over the Infoverse (what you're using to read this right now) because they have to travel over so many planes of conception to reach you, possibly. It depends on how far away you are. If you live in the Dark Polygon like us, you would see it clearly. Do you?

The farther the pictures go, the more the quality degrades, as bits and pieces are lost in the massive Infoverse.

Can you read this image? Are there artifacts in it? If either of these are apparent, you must be in a different Polygonal plane.

Image Below: A Test

The Great Attack Of 2007 And A Half

-Informal Article

In 2007 the Anti-Funklers conglomerated together in New Bronklefunksonham, rushing the streets, smashing windows, upturning the houses and crumpling the general psychedelic vibe that floated through the air. The Anti-Funklers ran through the streets, brutally murdering Funkchildren, and draining their biofunk. Thousands of Funkchildren died. The IGLEs were so busy with another group of hoogly fooglies that they didn't notice what was going on until it was nearly too late. Funkcitizen's heads were caved in, purple, gooey pools of biofunk surrounding them and others and items and asphalt and pavement. The IGLEs pulled out their Government Issued Hand-Held Deployable Anti-Funkler-Absorbant Vacuums and chucked them toward the oncoming horde of Anti-Funklers. The Funkchildren and the IGLEs began to run. Running and running and running in the night through the burning streets and the overturned houses and the rubble and the screaming and the biofunk and the entrails and the Funksouls and all over and every where and up down all around it smelled of screaming and ruckus and iron and everywhere all at once and then it was gone, in a bang, a flash. The Anti-Funklers were gone, and the screaming was replaced with a silent gasp and the realization that everything was ok now and everything was safe. That was the Great Attack of 2007 (and a half) that shook the whole Polyverse and all and above and everything near and made things peaceful again.


Image Description: IGLEs moving down the streets toward the crowd of Anti-Funklers. (off camera)

Aerth And Why It Exists But Doesn't

-Informatiational Entry

 Aerth holds many of the beings of Funk that live in the Dark Polygon. Aerth is merely a subsection of the infinitely sprawling entity that is only limited by the Cosmic Duke's mind. The Dark Polygon's habitats such as Aerth are merely theoretically there.  The Cosmic Duke imagines the planes of being. Therefore, they exist, but do not. They can't disappear though because once you think of something it's there. That's why the Cosmic Duke only thinks of justice and the beauty and the prosperity. He doesn't think of murder. He does not read books because of the risk and he does not watch, read, or follow media because of this. He is restricted to his mind and his capacity to think of good things so that nothing truly awful is unleashed upon the Polygonal Planes.

There are many other sections of the Dark Polygon and other planes that consist of other people and copies of people and dopplegangers and you could be there right now and forever on and they are better off than you and then there are other people and people in other sections are watching  you breathe and inhale in the toxins in the air and watching you move turning in your chair as you tense up at the thought of this happening right now and you try to think of the good things and-

"Hot cheesy fries, Ponko! This is getting a little too weird for me! Can you chill out man?" - You, The Reader.

This is the part where things become hard to explain because nobody can stand to hear about the spooky truth of the consequences of consequences in other sections of the plane. While this is not bad as your doppleganger is technically not you, it can be frightening to comprehend. What you must remember is the Funk that powers the world and the Duke and the planes will make all right.

Lighter Polygon's Quarterman

-Myth

The Quarterman is an old husbanduncle's tale of a man that thrives in the Lighter Polygon, the barren deserts. The Quarterman is not man, he is only a quarter of a man, so you should not trust his man. He is only a quarter of a man because he only has three human things inside of him: his brain, his heart, and his skin. His skin is technically on the outside, but that doesn't matter because his veins are of copper and silicone, and his blood of volts of electricity powering his nervous system and his life. He is machine and not man. He is Quarterman. Attention was first brought to this man when strange depictions of him started to appear in the sand of the Lighter Polygon. Nothing else is known. The drawing below is a mimic of one of the many engravings among the endless dunes.

Picture Attached: The Quarterman

The Recycling of Life Amongst The Polygonal Planes

-Informatorial Subarticle

 Life doesn't ever end in the Polygonal Planes. When you die, your Funksoul is carried up and up and up down to the Darkest Polygon, where the Cosmic Duke resides. The Cosmic Duke consumes your soul, and spits it out, up and out into a different Polygonal plane. The only plane Funksouls are forbidden to tread is the Darkest Polygon, where the Cosmic Duke resides. If a Funkchild, (the afterborn of Funksouls) happens to be transported up and up and down into the Darker Polygon, the breads scattered all over the plane will alert the Cosmic Duke of the presence. The Funkchild we be promptly reconsumed, and spit back out into a new plane.

Crump Dingler The Funk Wringler

-Biographical Entry

Crump Dingler The Funk Wringler was an evil man.

 He was the kind of person that puts dog poo in a burning bag and leaves it on your wall's front patio pool step door. He was awful. He killed the Coresasasians and would wring their heads off of their feeble bodies and their purple psychadelical gloopy liquid would ooze from their neckhole. This was called biofunk. The very essence that makes us who we are, what we inhale. This biofunk was is is now how the is what provided for the Coresasasians and their feeble bodies. Their seizures of eternal slumber had put them into such a state that the one thing that kept their lives going was the biofunk. Crump was an Anti-Funkler, an enemy of the funk, a traitor, a knobslonkeling funklonker. He was a murderer. He killed many men, draining the funk from their lives.

Anti-Funklers are not uncommon as you think. The Anti-Funklers come from the dark depths of the drainage pipes and the manholes and the other dark bits and bnobblers of every day life and they wring the funk out of the Polygons and the Coresasasians and all the others and the mothers and the brothers and on and on until the funk is gone and life is a hollow shell of nothing. This is the entire reason why funkchildren are so rare these days. Even if you have almost every single funk, one funkle can be tainted and the entire funkchild is dropped into the depths of Nonexistence. There is no way to save funk. This is the entire purpose of the IGLE, the Intergalactic Law Enforcement, also known by the street name, igloos. The IGLEs are there to detain Anti-Funklers and send them to the Darkest Polygon, where the Cosmic Duke resides. They throw the villain upon the bread. The Duke devours the Anti-Funkler, fueling his Funksoul for many more years.

Image below: Anti-Funkleristic Act of Funkslaughter, Jonupoly Tunth, 1985.

The Polygons And The Multi-Polygonal War Of 1964

-Informal Entry

1964 was a horrible and deadly year for all of the Polygonians and the Coresasians. In '64, the Emperor of the Ching Xiong District, Hao Lee Shin The Second, threatened the Lighter Polygon's leader, Erasmus, impaled on a sword with a pear instead of a pommel, which enraged him. He sent thousands upon thousands of young boys and girls to the Darkest Polygon, offering them food and shelter and all the riches in the world if they succeeded in a duel with the Innercube. The fight lasted up until 2000, a new era for the Quadpolyverse, the Duke was devastated by the war, and he sent in his Peacemaker minions that he controlled with his ever-withering Funksoul to stop it. (note: The Duke is chosen solely by the biggest Funksoul, nothing else, as the Duke is born once every millenium at the exact same time the Duke's Funksoul withers away, making the Duke stay the Duke, for ever and ever.) Ponko and Dongle were sent into the PMoA, the Proud Military of Ameracia, where they were sent alongside Duke's soul-soldiers to fight the good fight, the only fight, the neverending fight, the one fight. The fight was fought in trenches, in caves, and in large, dusty superfleiners (extremely large planes about the size of a small town, again.). The war was brutal and the whole Ching Xiong District was in total anarchy, a hellhole and a cesspool at the same time. A mixture of burning feces and demons, gross. Mexacorra, on the other hand, decided to loot the old, war-torn homes of the Chandese (inhabitants of the Ching Xiong District), as Mexacorra is a large country of bandits, gangs, and drugs. Ching Xiong's leader, Shin Hao Lee, sent his last missile over to Mexacorra, devastating all the lives there, and basically wiping the country off the map, turning it to a burning No-Man's-Land, now, you see, when people die, their Funksouls merge with Duke's, and Duke's Funksoul grows. This means he sent more reinforcements into Ching Xiong District, knocking down the last pillar of hope for the Chandese, and sending their country crumbling down.

Aerth and the Coresasa

-Subpart III, The Glorious Father Aerth And It's Sons And Daughters, The Coresasa.

The Coresasa are the little polygonalical creatures called Doofs that come out of your corners. They aren't actually called Doofs, they're called Coresasa, but still, that's not the point. The Coresasa used funkadelic magic to blend some sweet brew that forms the life and party of Aerth. Wrongy Plonk (Dongle's father, and Ponko's distant not-so-related-but-still-related-step-uncle-uncle) was the leader of the tribe, and served the two Funkchilds the slurpy Funksoup brew of life that energized our bodies and soothed our souls. Now, the Funksoup wasn't that good tasting, but it still was because it's funky. All Coresasa suffer from Funkadasiasiasis, a rare disease that can send you into seizures, and sets your eyes ablaze in a pink inferno, in the name of Funkuh, our higher power in our brave and glorious religion, Funkistanitii. Don't question it. The Coresasa didn't hunt, they didn't eat, they didn't drink, they didn't sleep. They lived off the vibes of funk in the deep undertones of life, hugging Father Aerth close to their heart. Many fell into an eternal sleep like this, an endless seizure and an endless inferno of Funkfire.

Kaleido Trafficking

-Subpart III, Kaleido Trafficking

Have you ever held a kaleidoscope up to your eye and realized nothing on this dimension will ever be capable of capturing such delicate funk? I have. Once, Horseman visited me in the night. He peered out of the closet with eyes a'blaze with cosmic groove, like all other times Horseman visited me, I had a strange case of tunnel vision with a brutal migraine shortly afterwards (brutal in the sense that it was really gnarly) before his arrival. Anyway, that's neither here nor there. Closer to the point, Horseman visited me at night like he did every night once I was proclaimed Funkchild and shared with me the weird of the Middlecube. And also mixed weird ass pills in with my milk and cookies which left me rolling on the floor foaming from the ears. Anywho, once he gave me sight of the kaleido, which left me in the hospital for a few days until he came back and took that godforsaken vertigovision out of my pupils. What I saw those few days, unknowingly, was the Darkest Polygon, in fact, every kaleidoscope you'll ever look at will show you fields and rainbow moors of the Darkest of Polygons. Try tracing where the kaleidoscope you bought came from, it will always lead to the same damn company located in New Newfoundsland, Iowa. (That is if you're on Aerth) Little did the townspeople know New Newfoundsland, Iowa doesn't exist. The men responsible for Kaleido trafficking are part of the Darker Alliance, because the majority of the Kaleido traffickers reside in Darker but were exile or runaways or whatever. The Darker Alliance owns a handful of clandestine Kaleidolabs in a few locations around the Innercube, where, once a shipment of Kaleido comes the job is to purify it through the coking process, rid it from impurities and bottle it into small canisters for distribution among little kids and Darker spies, who oppose the Duke.

TL;DR: Kaleido is legal to purchase, possess, and sell in the Dark Polygon, making it a safe haven for Darker criminals. Owning a Kaleidoscope upon entering any polygon other than Dark Polygon is punishable up to 100 lives in interpolygonal prison. Humans haven't lived that long ever since Methuselah was proclaimed king of Indonesia and Joseph Smith published the Book of Bourbon.

Polygons And What They Represent

-Part II, Polygons And What They Represent

Different tiers of Polygon exist in the Middlecube, we have an assorted bunch. They vary in size and flavors. If you're looking for the Darkest Polygon, we got that. You said Dark Polygon? We have that in stock. I'm sorry, I'm not fluent in binary, you said Darker Polygon? Yo, why don't you go to hell, buddy. Customer Service is out, you feel me. Are you picking up what I'm placing on the ceiling? I'm not, gravity won't work with me.

=====================================

Tiers of Polygon goes from top to bottom as follows:

-Lighter Polygon-

-Dark Polygon-

-Darkest Polygon-

-Darker Polygon-

=====================================

We have a list above for easier comprehension, we won't guarantee your understanding, we simply made it easier to follow along, as your stupidity is your own fault. We don't lay down the law, we follow it. In this case we don't, as we laid it down, and you are to follow. You don't have to follow. We'll throw you in prison. You are no ally to the empire.

Lighter Polygon goes as the name suggests, it's the light dimension, or lighter than all the other ones. Don't get us wrong, it's not sunny, nor is it bright. It's not happy, it certainly isn't the jolliest of places, unless you like dunes, and deserts. And sand in general, and everything having to do with sand, as the Lighter Polygon mostly consists of sand, a few huts and a large stone bust depicting Erasmus the Fortunate impaled on a sword with a pear instead of a pommel. Slightly familiar words are engraved on the hilt, reading, "Ekud Cimsoc." It's Latin for 'Crazed Boar,' I think. The Lighter Polygon is called this because unlike it's other 3 sisters, it was fed less food and instead shot up meth in the bathroom to keep a fresh, fit look. The Lighter Polygon is the skimpiest of Polygons, it's very LIGHT and FRUGAL, very SMALL and cute. But not cute anymore. Just anorexic and scary. And slightly damp. Ew.

The Dark Polygon is spooky, and also the most populous. The Dark Polygon unlike it's other siblings, is infinite. The Dark Polygon was first erected by the Duke when time was still in the negatives. He pinched it between his index and thumb finger and dumped it out into the Middlecube. The Middlecube has a hard time digesting it's meals so under some weird circumstances upon pooping the Dark Polygon deeper into the core of the Middlecube, (Now entering the Innercube) it got stretched into infinity. Something about the Krebs Cycle. Upon closer inspection we noticed that all who read this currently reside in the Dark Polygon. To narrow it down even further, if you reside in Aerth like Ponko and I, you're in Dark Polygon. There's a heads up for all who care.

I would tell you a whole lot about the Darkest Polygon, a whole parking lot. However, due to troubles with intergalactic law enforcement and the fact that I'm awful tired and it's 2 A.M. in the goddamned morning, I'll only fill you in with a paragraph full of information, or if you're lucky maybe even more. In the Darkest Polygon the Duke resides with all his bread, he keeps it scattered on the floor since it causes a loud crackle upon each step, thus alerting the Duke that unwanted pests have arrived in his domain. A method much like the Samurai used, except substituting creaky floors with fresh sourdough baguettes. Of corpse we know the Duke used this method much earlier before the Japanese had squinty eyes or had eyes at all. Kaleidoscopes have a very controversial take on The Darkest Polygon as they are considered by conspiracy theorists to be cosmic contraband sold on Aerth for spying on the Duke.




As good things exist, bad, scary things come to pass, too. If you didn't know that you're weird. Like, if you look at the darkest corner of your room at night; That's scary. There could be ghosts in that corner. You'll never find out if you don't ask. You can ask. You can't ask. Don't ask corners questions. Especially if you have an Ouija board on the floor and you're contacting the demon lord, Xaalkanvankali.

Corners are gateways to evil. The walls work with them too, it's an organized crime. It's night and the moon, like, shows up outside your window, you turn over to your side, you turn over to someone else's side, they turn to your side, they might also turn to their side, too, you cozy up in a myriad of pillow pets and dream that one day Chester'll show up at your doorstep and gift you a suitcase of dead wrens gnats (as is currency among best friends. Unless 95' 2013 has long passed, which in case anyone is reading please update to current item. We will be much obliged.) and - NO STOP, LOOK OVER, NO YOU CAN'T YOU'RE ASLEEP, IF YOU WERE AWAKE YOU WOULD BE WELL AWARE THAT SATAN IS DANCING ON YOUR CARPET FLOO- HELLWORMS ARE OUTSIDE OF YOUR WINDOW, LOOK, THE SKY TURNED BRIGHT RED AND THE MOON IS AN EYEB - SATAN CALLED IN A MARIACHI BAND HE'S SACRIFICING GOATS ON YOUR CEILING STROBE LIGHTS IN YOUR ROOM THE WALLS ARE BLEEDING PUS YOUR ENTIRE ROOM IS SUBMERGED IN PERIOD BLOOD SATAN IS RAPING YOUR CAT

"Wow, whoa, stop, stop it, Dongle! Your words are spooky, and I don't like them!" - You

Well you should be well-prepared before waltzing into my convenience store and asking if we have the Darker Polygon in stock, to which I will gladly answer, please go away we don't need your company. What's all that, then? That's the Darker Polygon, it's below the Darkest, it's trying to tell us it's darker than the Duke's own astral plane. Aye, we'll take their word for it, I don't need guys from the Darker side interfering with my own damn planet, and you sure as hell don't want to risk meeting them either.

Reminder: Current friend item is: Gnats.
Reminder: Before moving to a foreign dimension, check the demon to human ratio.

Map of Aerth

Ponkos' Glorious Recollection Of St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of The People

- Documentation of St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People.

St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People was the kind of place where superfleiners (extremely large planes about the size of a small town) left dark, black chemtrails in the sky that wouldn't go away for hours and hours.
The sky was tinted and the town was conquered by a Georgian Mafia leader back in the 80s, but he took it from a peasant that overthrew the government single-handedly with a smelly pipebomb he had hidden in his nether regions. St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People was a place of total anarchy, where there was violence all over and all around and rubbish littered the streets in crowds like the people that waited for their rations. Men would storm houses in search for "funkadelic doodlewops", basically a new type of drug that enhanced your senses and was prone to causing seizures. In common cases it turned normal men into something like The Incredible Bulk, a comic in Ameracia, in which a holocaust survivor is experimented on, and he turns into a mottled, grey mass that is extremely strong and such. St. Roseblock is now run by a corrupt mob boss, Jimmi Miggamoggen II, the son of Jimmy Miggamoggen, the mob boss who conquered St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People in the 1980s.

The Travelling Circus of Ponko and Dongle

-Part I, The Travelling Circus

If you think we're insane, you might be right. THO?UGH, that doesn't change the fact that we may or may not be correct. But we ARE correct. And all our stories are re[fa(real)ke]al. A clique which consisted of a man and a man who was slightly younger and aged men who arn't important, but one was, two of them were important. 

A hand clenched a mahogany hatchet and swung about the chasm. A swift thrust and then with a twisting dab the mountains obeyed their wooden master. Rocks turned and switched direction, the hatchetman delivered swiftly jabs and pierced the mountains from a distant chrome-drenched platform. It swung the hatchet with such careful precision as a choral director enjoins his musical ensemble.

We don't care about that. We were contacted by a duke from, like, space. Dukes are cool because I think of New York when I do think of them, one rank away from prince. Like me. Except I am not a prince yet. That is in the next future. You can't know about that, stop. I'm also a king and a marquis and baron. I'm not a king or a marquis or baron. 

I am/was contacted by a cosmic duke. I was only contacted by him once, I still am contacted by him currently, and I was contacted, and will be contacted by him forever. But only once. He opened lots of chain restaurants in Fernando Poo once. The duke also made the dirt around the carrots once farmers plant them; Once. The duke doesn't understand the word "Condiments" and refuses to learn it, as he says he has known the word in his previous time frame (future/past, we don't know) and lost to it in a drug-fueled match of Gin Rummy; Once. The duke never lost to anyone in Gin Rummy or any known variations of Rummy (including Cosmic Rummy); Once. Let me tell you now that we're on the subject, he only does things once but forever.  You might be thinking now, no one can do things once but forever. Ok, that's fine. We won't judge you, you are stupid. You were born thinking, and you might think you cease to think every now and then and rest. However, this is false, as you are stupid. You were born and only begun to think once, but you thought forever. 

"We can make you less of a human and more of a polygon" - Cosmic Duke

"KRGHAF AUHGANSF  GAEDSOPA APOJDE" - Ekud Cimsoc

Um, me and Ponko were born on the planet Texas, and half of us was born on Georgia. I grew up in a house of former drug dealer "Wrongy Plonk" (Alternatively, "Wrongy Prism"). He had moved out when I had moved in with my family. Lights which sustained the marijuana were left hanging in the garage which reeked of the diggity dank. I was two years old when we bought the house. Upon entering my abode the ganja'd out fumes hit my underdeveloped baby brains which sent me into a spiral of funky cool. I became one with the cosmic gnarlhood, it's gnarly features were too much to bear for anyone who wasn't of the proper mindset. In this case, my mind was far from set, in fact, it toppled over to the side and fell asleep for a while, and when it awoke, my drug-addled baby mind was funky cool. But I didn't know that yet. Wrongy Plonk, who now resided on the south side of West Korea, wasn't aware of the birth of a Funkchild, nor did he know what one was. Nor did I, nor Ponko know what one was. Even though we were them and they were us, so to speak. Ponko was birthed by his human mother in the east side of Georgia, on an island (St. Roseblock's Socialist Republic of the People) that was conquered by a Georgian Mafia leader back in the 80's. Ponko was born, like, a year after me; Since we're the same person the time difference was super confusing. Ponko and I ended up being both a year older and a year younger. Please don't take us the wrong way, we are two different people. We are just the same exact people. At the tender age of 1, night dawned, and Ponko was fast asleep in his blue crib which had the words "Ekud Cimsoc" carved out into the side of it. That's probably Latin. That night he heard light. He saw colors coagulate from the carpet and transmute into a Horseman. He stared him down with deep purple cyan eyes and whispered "Bro, I rode the Cranbog into your roof, sorry lol." That was translated from early Cyrillic. The Horseman wrote out the Cyrillic letters with his voice, he had first contributed the Cyrillic language/alphabet to the planet Earth, but since everyone forgot it he was super mad and didn't chill with humans anymore. Ponko understood him and Horseman understood him. In fact, it was Horseman's first encounter with a human since he last encountered one. He sat Ponko on his lap and imbued his mind with funked out groove. He mouthed the last four letters of the Cyrillic alphabet and left a bowl of soup. Ponko too, now joined the FUNKCHILD MOVEMENT. He didn't know, I didn't know.

On a funky August morning the ochre leaves fell from the trees, and didn't fly back up and attach themselves onto the branches. On one of the trees it was written "Ekud Cimsoc". Must be Latin. As we matured, we aged, and as we aged we turned better, and more potent. Like fine wine, per se. In fact, if you bit down under our skins, our blood tasted like grapes and alcohol. Ponko and I were cool guys, on that funky August morning we were awoken by a SHARED HALLUCINATION. A cloaked man with eyes glistening, standing in a field of white lights and large tubes of swirly colors, a smell of strawberry scented markers was in the air. The air was thick and you could taste it. It tasted like air. The man's cloak lit up and he danced, his head turned but his eyes were fixed on me. I had turned my head to see a young man a year younger than me, he stood there too, I was not alone in the astral plane of color. A cacophony of cosmic love. A voice was heard. It was bold, you could see it. It spoke in Esperanto.

LOAVES OF BREAD, LOAVES OF BREAD. YOU CAN TASTE IT.

YOU CAN HAVE IT, DEAR CALVES.

WE CAN SING HERE.

THE TRAVELLING CIRCUS, IT LIVES, OK?

YOU ARE THE TRAVELLING CIRCUS, DEAR CALVES.

WHAT HO, THE KREMLIN SHOWS.

It might not seem like a lot to you, but oh boy, were we excited. We couldn't understand it either, but we heard him, and heard him once. And forever. He united us, the Funkchildren, we were the ones who served him, and he gifted us with love. This story marks our insanity, but it doesn't; What's really marked is "Ekud Cimsoc." It's marked on your trees.

hlelo der my flwlow ugendans i am ur prience speken

i am her in americka i giv ppl fode n muni if dey giv tere bank accunt numbr......
but dey dotn do it mush in rlel lif so i send tru emale
tis is ur prence sinen ote

UGANDA MAK GODE DSICOVRY

!!NEW!!

UGAMDA HAVE COLOR PICS NOW!!!!! UGANNANDA IS TRU SAVIUR!!!

how 2 b a princ

send lot of e male out 2 giv moni 2 pore ppl of america tey r very pore and ned ur moni at tis tim it is ecenemic crises.

a picture of me, i am ugendan prence

eh my minyens u c me rolen i be ugendan prence u luv me dis was takn on good ugendan camra it is real!!!!