04/09/2013 - WAIT TILL HE'S CAUGHT HER UP AGAIN

Wait till he’s caught her up again and get the popcorn out while we still have a chance to see him make an absolute definitive tit of himself. She’ll shake him up and spew his guts like so much fire hydrant showstoppers, she’s notorious is that one. He’s a lover and she personally can’t stand that kind. He won’t last long enough to see the punk movement catapult itself into a new cornucopia of edible face paint. It will have a calming effect and it’s such a shame that he’ll be made to miss it. I’ll be sure to have his mother though. Round, that is.

She has such a dirty mind, a hive mind that belongs to the rest of her commune as much as her. They don’t pretend to be a kibbutz, that’s no longer the issue, they instead spend their time writing iambic feet into the plastic bag dietary office tampon. They’ll drown with Tylenol; they’d sooner see us gagging on medical prescription than floating happily this side of sensible. They ain’t half a vindictive lot. She must be the worst of them, the way she goes around gassing and gawping with the plaintive subway ticket totters. They had some potential left over; it’s such a shame, such a black mark against her mucky orange name.

She was a puddle of old men, exactly the same kind of bloke he was before she made him a beautiful black movement from between her foreshadowed legs. We might be overreacting but the jubilee will guide her through the action, her morals namely. We wish the ending was an adjective rather than an adverb but you get what you’re given in this autocue of a life. She has the guts after all and she can do whatever the hell she likes with the blistering remains of a slipshod muffin like him. It’s purely transformative. We’d sort it out if we could but the capitalists want to meet us this afternoon and we really can’t afford to disappoint the fiasco any further. It might stretch itself, give itself to lesbian porn as an oft-overlooked tool of veiled masochism. It’s safe to say we’ll drown whoever comes close to ensuring that this happens.

If you look right now you’ll see her tying up her shoelace and diving downward to catch the five o’clock train to dizzying heights. The empire has no time for her, you see, it wants to make a griffin out of her and charge her with moderate discrepancies. He might as well have never been the chance encounter he was, he could be a blank faced erection for all the empire cares. She is doing all she can to live up to her reputation but I fear her long hair and conniving wrack are convincing no-one anymore. Another year and she’ll be another age, a decade on from the last time she had a middling run-in. It was the modelling agency, they have a quirk ready and waiting on standby. Sorry, quark.