This week the phrase “Pistachio Redeemers” has been nagging at me. It is as random as David Lynch ever gets, I think, and what I ended up doing to exorcize it helps me, I think, to “get” David Lynch a little more. So I have comic-strip continuity with a warped boy and girl bantering, thus:

B: Moustachioed schemers?
G: No.

B: Kardashian bad-dreamers?
G: No. But–nice try.

B: Eustachian tube-feeders?
G: En-oh.

B: Well, WHAT then?
G: PISTACHIO REDEEMERS!

B: Oh. COOL!
G: Thx.
B: ROCK Band?
G: No.
B: Stamp collectors?
G: No!

B: Messianic chewables?
G: Maybe.
G: Time will tell.

As for the acrostic poetry, it is a little less Lynchian, and it cleaves to almost-exact iambic septameter, and exactness of alphas/spaces per line. There is a missing word. Careful readers will be able to find what it is and where it should go. A reader perhaps more clever than I am might know how to fix the line to render the content and preserve iambic septameter.

One final note: this is the first blog post I have made of previously unpublished material.