Wednesday 19 June 2013

19/06/2013 - LEFT AND CLEFT AND SMARTY PANTS

Left and cleft and smarty pants musicians go off in tumbling trousers to turn beds. The lolloping tongue gallops through the calendar of folders of masterworks of eh. It all happened on an afternoon in the sea shells of Gomorrah, like bridges in hedgehog territory. The inherent jabber wilts before the gilded rosary, before the curling toenails, before the might of an empire. We should get ahead while it's still drowning in a pool of cost and copious coupons. Right and sight and redirection of amoral action. It's all a game of one hand over the other, televisions being lost in the process on board a necktie, smuggled and such.

                I go wheeling through the hempen ancestry, across the stitch of morose dwellings, over the municipal fisticuffs. It was a remarkable day of making, a handful of compressed hours forming a gluttonous masochistic hook. That took a kilometre to find, no lie. Graphology was a big help but I did it all on my lonesome, clinging only to the traffic lights when appropriate. Hugging, of course, was out of the question. My league was unleashed upon a diamond plantation that erupted with holy matrimony but was bogged down by paper mill responsibilities. Everybody did what they thought was correctable and upright, however to say we didn't crash and burn would be a polite exaggeration.

                Including Perry. Including Perry. Including Perry. Including Perry. Including Perry. Including Perry. Including Perry and spatulas. Including Perry and his spatulas. Including Perry and his spatulas of terrorist wonder. Including Perry and his spatulas of terrorist wonderment. Including Perry going fast downhill. Including Perry going fast downhill, uphill and somehow off centre. Inclusion is a wonderful thingamajig.

                To be unfamiliar with the Beatles is a product placement advertisement in the offing. Duck low or be encased in the gelatinous flint of popular idealism. There is a sugary centre there but not for the no-brainer's among us. If you have enough graphite then you might be granted passage but only if it is covered by quality insurance. The robin will know so don't try any funny business, all it takes is a grain of a pinch of a sniggering measurement to melt down your assets. Perry is already storing the blossom as we speak, or as I speak if we're going to be completely candid. Nevertheless let's have a shifty at this here obelisk. Doesn't it look grimy?

                The tramps are out in full force this night. They're wielding windscreen wipers like nunnery payments and will not leave this land without a snuggle bunny to hook up to. The humours are necessary so don't skimp out on them. I can't tell you how many times I've poisoned one of them only to be struck down by duckling feathers. When it doesn't tickle it's unpleasant, causes ruptures and everything. Ambiguity leaves no mercy to wriggle and dart about in the soil, leaves no hairy climes to travel to with expansive suitcases. Until we meet a friend. Until then.

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