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Save as much as you want. Its free. Copy it and give it to your friends tell them to copy it and give it theirs. I can generate new, different, and fresh iterations of nuxnazi as long as I breath.
Regrettably, I have given up on repairing cassette decks, because wishing them to be brand new will not make it so. Hence, Mustafio will return all malfunctioning units to their owners.
I should mention that I am fussy about public bathrooms and will always clean the seat and cover it with toilet paper or covers designed for this purpose. I have a large collection of classic rolls of the Blues Magoos, T Rex and The Raspberries; all first pressings and out of print. Even though it is disrespectful to eat after dark I do treat myself to dimming the lights before walking around with an empty bag of Frito's. This is a signal to neighbors that Mustafio is home and an invitation to join me.
Mustafio's research often influences my own life. Once while sitting at my desk I felt a stream of water run down my back. Dashing upstairs I found Porcelina on a fleet of toy boats in the overflowing bathtub. I leaned toward her and asked, "My dear, what is keeping your dress on?" She said, "only your age, Mustafio."
There was a bit of tension during soundcheck between Mustafio and the stagehand. His tapping on my microphone incessantly, and repeating "test test test" caused an annoyance. I admit to then having ridiculed the worker in a mildly abusive manner. Finally he said, "Okay Mustafio, may I have my balls back?" "Certainly," I said while snapping my fingers: "Props!"
The lady asked to speak to Rizzo. I said, "Baby, maybe it was because the last time I was caught conjugating a verb on the hygiene exam, all the refreshments were gone." Next I had to deliver a pie to Ravi Shankar who is a reliable tipper. This was verified in the newspaper about the rockets going off; how every hit TV show has one star who does everything.
It's hard to believe only one reporter in the whole of Chula Vista saw through this hocus pocus. Hello Dolly had just opened for its second season and I've been sawing David Lee Roth in half as part of the act for weeks, but all I ever ended up with is was the half that eats. Meanwhile the refrigerator was acting up, even though it had just been serviced. Coolant. There was nothing wrong with the compressor. By the way Carol Channing, that's not her real name. A certain press agent evolved the notion that Ms. Channing who had been unable to get a break in the movies was shipped back from Nova Scoria as the janitor in the same courtroom as Bob Hope and Mustafio; two small town judges who grew up to be boyhood friends. I'm not saying it was a complete "hands off the sports jacket" situation, there was plenty of gray area even though the tuxedo was rented.
Cycloquid and becoming technical would like to become your arachnizoid friendly salitation. Don't forget to clean the chelicerae before the vacume kicks on.
I often miss the news but have heard recently of my bicycle trip and the ritual hanging of my sweater upon a branch of grapefruit tree and its many cascades. Mustafio watched all three hours of the program and found it enthralling. I was particuarly pleased with the red curtains; even though I was on military pension, I am glad it's back - it does provide a pleasing backdrop against the wailings of my entity ridden pets (good point Bob). The Romans in particular were expert at this, mistaking Mustafio as a traveling doormat, useful sometimes for the wiping of shoes.
In a sense, Mustafio has been preparing for this moment for years. With hundreds of rapid fire question and answer sessions with audiences and the TV panels under my belt, my chopping hand remains my only gesture. My magnetic appeal to youth - especially the female screamer -is a recurring phenonema to which my advance men have been advised that they are never to be caught napping again.
