a magical realist novel that's nothing but a reincarnated housefly's recollections of the time she landed on a piece of John Lennon's blotter acid and tripped balls amongst the Beatles for days (i.e. most of the rest of her life)

most of the book would have absolutely nothing to do with the Beatles nor with being a fly and would mostly be rambling digressions about theosophy, crystalline topology, group theory, Damien Hirst, and the history of stage magic

it was really good acid you see

or maybe i just miss acid

@zebratron2084 I don't have any acid, but I do have a housefly and some crystals.

@Soreth Huh. @mmsword? @Phorm? Can you make anything good out of a housefly and some crystals?

@zebratron2084 @Soreth @mmsword

Absolutely. I can make the wickedest shit you've ever tripped on.

All I need are the crystals, the housefly, a kilo of nutmeg, and about 200 g of 3,4,5-trimethoxyphenethylamine.

@Phorm @zebratron2084 @mmsword I've got about 250 grams but it's cut with some unknown amount of thiotimoline, which is... probably fine? It's either fine or it's deliriously unsafe, I don't know which.

@Soreth @Phorm @mmsword Darling, YOU"RE cut with 250 grams of thiotimoline.

@Soreth @Phorm @mmsword

Wait. No. You willam-on having-cut be-upon-whence with 250 grams of thiotimoline? Is that right?

Sorry, I'd look it up in Streetmentioner's Handbook, but my copy willam on-to-be have-since-publishing, unsince about another 270 years to the right.

(What can I say, I arrived from 30th-century Mars on the equivalent of your Earth Megabus. We took a weird route. It gotting on-were complicated. -__- )

@zebratron2084 @Phorm @mmsword I find it's usually so much easier to just flag down a passing Dorbzeldge and take a quick zip through the nearest elliptical poppyseed bagel place, hang a left at Jersey, and wind up smack dab somewhere you never expected to be. After a brief adventure, you'll end up where you wanted to go in the first place.