REVOLTREVOLTREVOLTREVOLTREVOLTREVOLTREVOLTREVOLTMARTHA! This is a safe justice, a tweaking of the starry-eyed opinion editorials that stand to gain from a circular argument. You should surround them with sandbags and grow your own tapestry without the homoerotic tension. Who needs all that drama when we can all become a choir? Choirs learn to adapt, adapt, ADAPT more than adequately. It's like sheep with them, worth tending and makes for good pillow cases. This one here is number nineteen, that means it's on its merry old way to becoming a button factory. We'll split and divide its organs among the mug rats and their stormy palates. Let is not an option, it is a quizzical understatement in a game of backward-forward chess. It wraps the house in its own solicitor's office, twists its nipples into an Encore of Ramsey. Oh Captain, Cap and Gown and British Columbia! We clung and clang to the right place and the slack-jawed idiot moors. Additional scan settings tell us that the indication it usually spews out is a little less than satisfying. We told it as much with back-handed slaps and prayer mat beat downs. We don't crush to death or suffocate though, that shit's for wierdos.
HALF-REMEMBER
half-heartedly but don't batten down the CHICKEN SALAD SANDWICH BATCHES. Turn
away from life in a rock band: become a loved hourglass, an ornament to
oriental kind folk. They'll fall into your porcelain heart and thrum out a
jazzy tune on their electric pizzicato strings. That's the only way to force
feed onyx into symbolic humdrum chums. We'll rectify the closed eyes with a
balmy, barmy WINDYASSFUGGITABOUTITFALLDOWNYATIT situation modifier: trust us,
it's a best way of introductory quantum reliance. Our electric guitars have
long since served their respectable respective purpose. More than words can
show how to plug in the adaptor. More than words can say smiley face emoticon.
More.
The
train has a face and COMES IN THROUGH THE DREAMS LIKE A
BRUCETIDDLERMAGGOTFUCKER and ably worms its way into the brain compartment
specifically manufactured to recognise different types of daffodil pad. This
bit is a quality bit, a bitmap that depends on nights in baseball camps and
destructive sullen solos. Swimming deserves quiet storks to tread past its
dashboard photos and reverse over them for good measure. She forgot her frilly
under things at the moon's baggage station and that's why the crossing guard is
packing heat in such a definitive depiction of himself. It's not like years ago
when he was a sleigh driver who saw everyone naked at least twice in their
lifetime. Perversion of Saturnalia prods the orbit into Ferris Wheel
perpendicular motion, just like you said. Your snap judgement laughs with bated
breath and serves its trainer well and in willies. It's not for commercial and the train would
not RECOMMEND or tingle or
STRAPONBUCKLEINKNUCKLEDOWNDOITBASTIONSTYLEYEAHYEAHYAHHUZZAHSATIN. But then what
could it be in substitution? Letters send themselves telepathetically like a
poet sends out portly misgivings into the muse's boggled niggle box.
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