This the story so far.
Geddy Lee's hangover was disturbed by a rush of his blatant homosexuality which was turned syntax by Arther's HUGE sword. It all began in the summer of 69 when dwarfs and lube lived in harmony with Tom Sayer's satanic friends who liked knitting class and chemistry but circumstances prevented them from eating big vials of sand. Toothpicks had no use and all seemed lost until Michael Jackson fondled over nine thousand different circus ponies. Rotten eggplants and hairless, albino otters. Feel the wrath of my evil hot flatulence to keep yourself from succumbing to the pain of a night with a four word game that should never end. Geddy then met Micheal for some lunch and a bout of hot pastrami. Pickles were extra.