MP3: https://planetarystatusreport.com/mp3/20230225_Awaken_dear_Grimble.mp3
Donate: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/doctorfreckles
Wake up gentle GRIMBLE …
You’ve been asleep for 7,000 years …
Come forth gentle GRIMBLE …
Bring us the laughter and tears …
Build your castles made of wax, unto the realm give your blood oath, unto your lover give your STREAM.
Make your river a valley of whores.
Arise pedestrian KING, reclaim your kingdom among the freaks.
Stand up, Tornado Knight, and bear the light breath of life for the STROGAN-FOLK and their sheep.
Fire up your furnace and cast aside the old dogs of war, replace pink sprites with metal and kettle and knife and pie.
Open your eyes WISE GRIMBLE, take note of the time and usher forth the flames and tremble.
If you walk the EARTH for 7 years, you can make amends for those old crimes of tasty blood malady and overcoming fruit guilt.
STAND FAST OLD BEAST, and wave your hands about …
The DELORIAN FREAKS will stride over wasteland cities, and the bejeweled harlotry will herald an age of STINK BEETLE PIZZA.
Your mind will slice through the bullshit and reveal the inner core of disturbed angel sands. Your kite spirit unites the 77 demon worlds, and opens a portal to the newest and most fantastic of places …
OH FINE GRIMBLE,
your mind on fire with GRIEF-RAGE.
You remember the time of broken heart’d living, when the cavemen women wrapped themselves in steel-cotton, and the grease merchants sold dolphin-slab by the gallon to truckers …
Your fist will beat down the failed crap heads.
There are no words for you GENEROUS GRIMBLE!
You give of your flesh sauce and no monster will halt your guile and danger …
Your plan for us is wise, and our workers have begun fashioning the stone. Our astronomers see the Heavens and gaze too deeply into doom paintings.
DEAR GRIMBLE, HEAR YOUR SULLEN PEOPLE!
My Grimble, come home.
A fire shall burn, and the hog-dwarfs will pay.
A cannon shall boom, and the cougar wench will be lost to the swill.
A lion will ROAR, and the KELMER-MONKS will learn to hunt grease-weasel and eat black pear pie.
And you, Dear Grimble, will ride high on the wheel-throne hound.
A time of testimony will arrive, when the 17 hooker-wives will give their word to the throng. Judged for heresy, the GRAND DUCHESS will ungudgulate herself will tinctulating her boovula.
A sly jester frolics nearby, high on PCP and stale cocaine …
And OUR GRIMBLE is ready!
THEY WILL COWER BEFORE YOUR STRENGTH!
They will cry and wail at your approach …
They will be heard saying, “the Grimble approaches, hide the busty women and the beer …”, but nothing remains hidden before the Grimble.
He is the caretaker of all lost sins, he is the SAUCE!
How many 8 balls of cocaine have I had, waiting for you my loving Grimble?
Am I simply a plaything of the gods, being tossed about by fate, like some meth head loser that can’t stop thinking about LAY’S PLAIN WAVY POTATO CHIPS?
Will the wizard steal my robot arm, to kill you?
So we still wait, despite feeling the quaking earth …
We still hunger, despite hearing your distant steps, the crushing force of your giant flaming iron feet burning and squashing the ground …
We prepare the great offering, of Norman Borlag stew and diabetes goo, and more.
We wait as space ghosts, covered in dingus brine.
We wait as HEROES, sitting up our swords.
We wait as hooker queens, with steel bearded rage DOWN THERE. (you know where)
We wait and smile and worship and build statues of our friend GRIMBLE.
And one day, HE will take us home.
