Thirst Cat lives on a daily basis, rounding
the spool with celebrated deception. It keeps its colours dipped in 1-2-3
safety procedures and just will not let go of the petty handles. The Cat washes
its winks in kisses and he has a sister to lose shortly. It's all working parts
and spiralling planetoids - it's good to have a name for reddening opportunity.
So
what about you? Still watering down tickets one would imagine. Let's just take
out the trash and throw out the pillar boxes while we're at it. This, of
course, is Erasmus speaking. Appreciation was a herbicide that was slipped into
a toothpaste cocktail. That was the work of the grandiose. Thirst Cat and all
of its pyjama collection.
Oh
gee, the trainer sneaks as the sneaker trains. Put pressure or virginity will
wipe out ahead of the people of Earth. Not the citizens, the people that cry out against constancy. Bromance is a tool used to keep the skinny jeans and
baby grows apart. There is no other support. There are rags to line up but we'd
much rather play in the dust.
Who
is abusing the Thirst Cat? He is a she when keeping the straws. I know because
I tried to rob him once with Neil, all we could manage was the spanners and a
few workmen. Renew the glitz of mean-hearted wagtails or we'll say more. That's
not the kitchen nor is it a bear trap. I have the muscles for a panic reflex.
Let's say today for the bromide solution to be slept in. Stop tapping off the
tank, kid.
Madre
hoops the fringe with the letter 'y' at the wedding reception of revenge. There
isn't a ligament for the thousands or the tarnished parcel. Oh, the game shows
are coming to co-operate widely. Luckily I don't even have a brother to bother
while wearing unseemly tuxedo. Give the turn section a thumbs up or a middle finger salute. We'll
have some laughs and laughable excuses. That could be because the lever of the
young has been left both ajar and agape. I am abrupt and I'm sorry that this
has to be so good.
Poop
all over crustaceans and listen to the sound of grapes tumbling from our paternal
lips. Damn the drudgery that could so easily be making sleep a potent responsibility
as opposed to a timeless classic. So many stops though, the tunnels are squeezing
and reprising their priors. Thirst Cat is making babies with its fisticuffs.
Maybe not the shadow puppets but fine enough to rage against. This is what
happens when you insist on spamming the combos. Be nice and sweet when you drop
your imperatives. Back when Thirst Cat was a Quenched Kitten it had rudimentary
knowledge of all the most ridiculous borders, now it has felt tips and cool
shades that refuse to do its bidding.
Whores
are talking to thirty-year-old faces about Ipswich and all its promises. Whatever
you do, don't get involved. Run.
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