Can't help pondering, whilst cramming an omelette down your neck, that bereaved little hen you left behind with no egg and no more faith in mankind? Good. But avast! – shipmates 'n' lasses, let thy sorrow walk the plank!, leave marooned all earnestness on the rocky shores of Oblivion! Dirty Undies are, as the current slab of time catches up with the rest of it, embarking on a mission to eliminate all meaning, meaning meaning stuff not unlike the relations to concepts of reality in which all and other known and unknown entities imagine themselves, as well as each other, to be trapped. These bonds were up until now unintelligible and will quit being so. They will start being unintelligibly unintelligible. So don't worry, you won't feel a thing. Words? They cause wars. It's people who have to fight them, but it's those damn words that get them started. Ah, yes, you think you know 'em: words. For all we know, maybe you do – at least some of them. And as luck would have it, they are the first ones to go. Say goodbye. That's it for goodbye! Now doesn't that feel better? Goodbye – Where is it? – There it is! – No it's not! Long gone is the new word for it. And it's two words. And it's next up. That's it for long gone and that's it for that's it. You're an asshole. But never mind, no one knows! No one used to include you, just maybe we'll keep it that way. Ask politely. Dirty Undies are your friends. Say it. Dirty Undies are your friends. Repeat it. Dirty Undies are your friends. Say it like you believe it. Dirty Undies are your friends. Now believe it like you said it. But without the words. Exactly.