To reckon to
eke is such an absurdity, it needs no title and requires no particular
blasphemy. The connotations are always blue on the side of that street, they
wear shades and were at one time or another good at it. Now to outrage means to
identify, and to identify means to acclimatise. These events have no problem to
get ready together, crossing off the many versions of you in the grip of a
hedonic pregnancy. You could take some logical money with you but it's best
that you keep out of it for as long as the darkness takes to withhold its cheap
cuts of meat. The shares are like spoils, are like loony writs. It's absolute
glamour clamour, if you think about it the sauce could assort itself into a new
and stringent pattern of bread and butter. It takes a mild shot of awareness to
bend the chest around the blend, going tick, tick, tombola. With recipes like
this you can be certain to forge a powerful performance throughout the
olfactory disruption, see how it washes apart the embezzled springs. Well at
least Pavlov had it right under the thistles, kept it right in between his
salty frolicking. The blaze of hah over the tundra of tangential evidence: you
see it? You do? Well leave your heart to soak in this Sunday desert. You could
go for half eleven, you could depend on the hockey as your Mr Menu trumps most
of your expectation with his fine slut's soothing voice. It's time to go, good
boy, it's tambourine toboggan as a lolly stick learns of its lifetime. The king
comes to hone his practice and load his guns with the remainder of all that
practice. We've all had a wonderful time in 1999 but the talk is getting far
too congenial for worms such as these that are lapping at our third set of
feet. That trick to the health of me, lost my hand in Indonesian Perfume, submerged
it and dunked upwards to see what the air might bring. There were only a few
minor faults to the entire ball game: the flutes, the Guatemalans, the flukes
and the right to say what's what in a free world of unadulterated pornography.
The text is telling me lies again so shoot it with your eye beam and just walk
away. I'll cover the matter up, you just open the crate, see what crawls out.
As the grave
made over itself, the itch began again and the novelist did all that was in the
publisher's power.
The day
could be saved as it could also be salvaged. Maybe they share the same fashion.
Honesty
really is a cornerstone for praying mantis antics but it teaches them cliché
tricks. This is what they need to survive the night.
Oblique, I'm
oblique, she's oblique, before you know it we will all be oblique. As for the
one's with money, they can't afford to be anything more than bleak or better clean-up
guys.
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