Today pucas found an empty tome, he decided he would fill it with all of his knowledge
pucas decided he would put his spells, stories and sand memoirs into it.
the tome would be called The Grand tome of Knowledge

all forms of magical energies would swallow the tome and turn it into a magical leaflet of amazment.

"Every day one can find a new bit of knowledge in the book" said pucas himself

"it shall break boundaries and push the world into a new era" said an old man.

three servants would climb to the top of a giant nose and discovere the filled tome, there they would become one and swallow three small children, respectively.

no crab had ever felt that way before, and nor did they expect it to.

Crunch Time

Belaido! Come forth for the CRAB WISHES TO STROKE YOU
splendid
WHAT!?
Nothing sir, merely a quandry of the birds to the oakenhaven dusselCROFT
geeehhhhhhhhhhh *FROWNS* you make me sad, and bitter, and chilly in the legs.
You poor little seed, does one need a sprinkle?
Dont tell me youre into sexual pleasures by Urination on someone
No, of course not, how could I be.... my love is for the Crab nothing more
That is good :P
:)

The Sound of Music

The Norwegian Forests are alive with the sound of music
With songs of Satan they have sung for a thousand years
The Forests fill my inner darkness with the sound of music
My soul wants to scream every song it hears

My heart wants to beat like the wings of the crows
that rise from the Lake Bodom to the Oaks
My heart wants to sigh like a fetus that dies
from a church after a burning
To laugh like a Christian when it trips and falls over onto a pike set up by someone cool
stones on its way to the Dao Land
To scream through the night like a cunt who is learning to pray like a Christian fag

I go to the Norwegian Forests when my heart is lonely
I know I will hear what I've heard before
My heart will be tainted once more with the sound of music
And I'll scream once more

the soon rising crab

the crab rises, over the moon and toward the cows. this pantiful clothes basket was not too wary to be uncalled for but for those who never quite understood it was a savvy soup. soup of course being it's favourite flavour for when selecting the lovable lollypop. any soup really, red, green, black, yellow, golden garnish color with black speckles. all soup is amazing to the soon rising crab.
in times a new, with tomes of golden milk, the soon rising crab was unable to seed the sand. the sand of course needed to be seeded, but this was impossible when the crab would not eat his soup. noone really knows why the crab would not taste his soup, as he had loved it vigorously before. the crab simply said "no soup for me, a crab dont eat this soup". the crab had matured into an old man. he enjoyed old big chairs of leather, and women wearing large hat arrangments, with plumes on the sides.
no crab left to be found to seed sand, as none like soup, all are old men, of various styles and sags. there was one crab though, who was older than the rest, or wiser, or not at all either. this crab's name was crab. Crab was the alpha male crab, he was the best hunter, and the best at chess. none of the other crabs even stood a chance against him. Crab was a crab from the south asodean sea, there he had lived in a large clam, as most crabs do from birth, and ate his way out from the inside.
Strangely enough this Clam was larger than the average and Crab became exceedingly large for a crab. this was of course strange and noone knew why. but now that Crab was so big he could dress up as a Plank and do the happy milk man dance.

of course this story is true, why do people always ask me about my blogs. "pucas, this storys is so amazing," they say "it has moved my heart miles, but is it really true"
why would i ever lie about something, the haggard nose, the soy feinds, the lorses, all of it true, all of them my adventures. you fools know nothing of our world if you havent danced on the lorse garden, if you havent fought, side by side, with the soy mineral machine thigns. if you havent drank the purest of soy, with the freshest of soy bagels.

without these things my life would be dull and boring, of a school day child. BUT ALAS I AM NOT, I AM THE GREAT CARPENT GREENWARD, MASTER OF THE SOY AND THE FINCHES.

the haggard nose

the haggard nose
oh how i do dream of thee
on a breezy summers eve
or on the night of the carnival

you came to me first
a package
of silver foil
and red glittering tinsel

i opened thee with the slightest movements
increments with calculated magnitude speed and time
fragments of a complete movement which was altogther the act of opening
revealing and embelleshing you my lovely nose

frank's puppets are not of the highest quality this year
in previous times past his puppets have served to me
powerful tools of indication
recreation, enjoyment

but during lifetimes all is consumed
the haggard nose oh how he devours
time immortal or irreversible
not both nor either the nose is ravenous

endless hunger
it pushes on even after the nose
for those unconsumed
will harness the power of the nose

and take upon themselves the strength and hunger felt once by this nose oh haggard

the crayfish do say so it is the end
of those unendable
of gods and humanity alike

a harsh and brutal winter approaches
and the dark, cold clouds of night draw near
to be lost in this madness is putrid
to be lost in this place is madness
and to be forever wanting, wanting more and more
is putrid like this place of madness