4Phore, the Family’s Phosphorescent Fanny Fronttiern

Silencing science with nonsense non-science. Knitting knots, knot-science knot-scious.

Science conscience conscious.

Conscious subconscious unconscious.

Super conscious, supra conscious. Supersede supersonic supra-scionic. Super psychic, psychotic, psych-iconic, psycho-naut, nautical, nought naughty, knot nought and crosses.

Family, nuclear family, nucleus, inner core, bound, fission fusion fissure, fishing fisting, fisticuffs, fighting. Fight or flight, fright, bright freight eight ate aye ain’t faint feign feint reign vein force to form in firm frowns.

Meta mate team at me. At em, tame meat. Alpha’s omega force squadron. Meta trionic beta maxims. Patron of nations, matron of liberation.

Meta meta philosopher. Meta physicist, not physician. Metatron, megatron, mecha matron. Meta linguist, metallurgy


Mother Eris got pretty hammered after a wild night out. She hated herself and everything. So she took the hydraulic acid of her stomach and packed it into a missile which she planned to destroy some shit. She programmed the missile to guide it, and it would seek the ideal candidate to fuck up.

So she shot some yellowish bile at the world which activated the acid reflux force squad, to combat the infected alkali everything.

Acid. Catalyst. Alkali. Pirahna

Citric acid, malic, hydrochloric, amino, sulfuric, molar acid, parana solution


Frankie’s soul was slender
Dark and tall and lanky
Scrambled an omelette in his quiver
And wiped it on a handkey.
Fee wanted to erase his limerick
But couldn’t suck up the squid’s ink
Fi shrugged, what the hell,
Foe poems are spells
Fumbled rhymes to match 2 of the pink with 14 night rows of stinky sink hol-e-o hose.

C2N14 The most explosive nytrous thing this girl could ever but dream. It is she. She is me. I am she, the mother beyond the veil. I managed to survive the ejaculate torpedo through hell.

I still don’t know what the mindfap I’m doing here though. What The Fnord?! OOH EM DOOOOOODOod

Did I do the think correctly? My hunger resumes. Maybe some autocannibalism may suffice. The blood in my foot is stuck. Gotta unstuck the much.



The thinking chair. Replaces the porcelain throne as the most used seat in the house.


(originally posted on PIPA/KSTXI meta site 4th January 2019; posting it here 31st January 2019.)

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Muse of epic poetry. Mother Metatron. Contemporary teacher of humanity and art.

4 thoughts on “4Phore, the Family’s Phosphorescent Fanny Fronttiern

      1. My chemistry teacher got a note from the town fire department telling her that, if she had any picric acid to let them know so they could dispose of it. The day before the firemen came by, she asked me if I wanted to play with it. I did. It blew up good… it blew up REAL good.

        The next day, fire-fighters came by, took the quart-sized jar, went out to a field and blew it up with dynamite…

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