Wolf Moon Stardate 73178.84
The music ended. He blinked out between the slightly swollen eyelids and straightened his still orange-purple veiled Lingam. That kind of bong versus Tantra challenge has it all and he wondered if these outrageous space sensor data were directly streamed into the social networks, because these news would get around pretty quickly that he had once again exaggerated maximum, although on the other hand, such a catch would last long and bring him at least a year of enough thrill-seeking novices of cosmic love art. Just as he likes it.
The pungent roaring whistle of his red panic button app pulled him abruptly into the real reality and reminded him in real time of the actual task. All the while, he had brought his photon level into higher orbital speeds with the Venusian Courtesans. Master Yoda would have said “had wasted”. The protagonists of the planetary occupation society had done quite a good job in their favour. There hardly seemed to be hope to deliver the reality of eternity and to keep properly track of the chronicles of life. Up to the highest levels of ethereal astral chronicles all channels of knowledge got sealed, all existing memories erased, reformatted and overwritten with endless super nonsense of most entertaining goodness.
It was about time for the use of the meta joker. Soltek wasted no last look at his Venusian playmates who already reloaded the sideline booster of the winning unit and were on their way to prepare themselves. „Sorry ladies…today only bone breathing for you, see you!“ He smiled at them with the benevolent gaze of the soft mother, gathered up his Prana stock and stepped into his dream glider. The oracle of the day reminded him that he had not fed his totem animals for some time and he spoke the destination coordinates of its hiding place.
Missed the previous episodes of SOLTEK REBORN?
…it could not happen again, which had to happen and once again the beer became warm, although it clearly violated the cosmic grand-constitution, which clearly forbade the existence of warm beer.
He had to admit that he had lost the factual overview of his cosmic positioning temporarily out of his sight, out of his senses, because of all the definite vortex-thrust pleasures.
The sub bass thrust seemed to come straight from the centre of the galaxy and its purity of light surpassed anything ever measured.
He gave the “Enter” order and the most beautiful of all codes ever written, assimilated in real time the consciousness of the sub-matrix of the solar activity.
Soltek did not have the slightest idea who had nominated him for the World Peace Championship, but now he was there.