I act. I perform action. I am a concept performing action. I am I performing a conceptual action. Act and action and concept and I. Title: Actactionconcept_I.

Vibrant reverberation through concept, I act to perform. I like the sound of that. Verb and vibe. Swerve the verb, man. Word introduction; pushed to my limited boundary of dictionary definitions and the petit I. Formative. Let me try. Synonyms for actactionconcept_i: oh oh, I have got it, I've got it, by jove (that's retarded Verb): stupidity. It's so contemporary, man. It's so postmodern. It's so- shut the fuck up, you don't know what that shit is okay? My name is Verb Verbrotti the Verbose Vibe. That's my title: the Verbose Vibe of Vebrotti. It's a country, look it up please. I verb over it all, vibing, I'd guess. Look at this comma usage,,,,,,,. Pow! that's a period buddy, you've fucked up the work now. We cannot stand for it! No more no more. Vernacular, missed that one; vernacular and my slang, and the sounds of song, like rythym and beat, framed across the metaphor or similie, whatever. Believe us, when I say, this is a freakin' story. It is, I have to insist upon it! My country tis' o' thee sweet land o' liberty of thee I sing, we suppose. Don't make fun of my nationalistic and most patriotic America. Goodness gracious, not America! Not my shining beacon of- o wait, it really is a shining beacon, no I'm not kidding, like a beacon out of zee bum bum like gum gum.

Novel idea in the 2000's. Throw it up on the internet, teleport it with your imagination like plastic to my a oh ho! I won't say it, no I won't you schimmy schimmy ricka ricky Down to my store, to open up the shop. Gotta eat to live Fundamentals, all in the fundamentals. Mental. Another good sound. Men menthol, mental, oh yeah, ment and meant and mend. Jibberish you're thinking. What is this crap? Open it up, absorb it, read it go on, I dare myself. Look at yourself I dare to say. My friends are going to hate this display I've set up in my shop that I open to eat to live so I can practice the fundamentals. Typo, I spake and spoke that damn upin and up in and up in the house I've built with my own two hands, a lady lays, legs splayed, awash with desire for my happy dance. That is not a euphemism okay, get over it. It's just a penile malfunction processed through tongue as I spit, that's right, spit.

They called this brilliant, but I wrote it at age 5. Looking back at it now, it seems a bit...

Compulsive? But what's it conform to? Inanity, I'd suppose. All desire to break down rules of engagement and for what? To be insignificant. Again. I just want to do something successfully, just once!