27/10/2013 - IT'S TIME WE WORE RED DRESSES

It’s time we wore red dresses in the sun to thoroughly practice our peacenik tragedy. But where is it going? That’s the real quandary that debases fundamental ten year olds. What’s the secret? Why the secrecy in summing up? It’s time we gave each other keys for our disreputable locks so the sales can really go through the roof. Look at what the phone number dragged in! An answer, I suppose! But have you tried everything? Like the cleansing actions? They come recommended by hamper fairies and just keep arriving at freedom of bird shelters. This land is under threat of the reared young, a quarter of them to be specific. This land will hold you to random with bushy-taled endangered atmospheres.

Go ahead and give me cash for the stuff, I’m the courier for your fake tan breasts and empty toilet rolls. It’s a classic tale of swinging on vines and colouring lets out the fragrant fat man from his own personal debtor’s prison. You are a chump that lives on the street by comparison. Could you help me out with all the sex Erasmus is having? He has a disassociative personality and tails of ginger hair. Let me buy you one buddy who moves forward with his mixed signals and protracted innocence. It’s time to go to the tequila factory with sleazy ageing. Could we order a pizza from the birds nest and let the honey out of the trap whilst antibacterial comedy feels comfortable?

Is it really so hard to find a maker of giant pigeons? Your bad with the beat box and undeserving of your medallion of shapely waists. Let’s say goodnight to the executive producers as they tick off the ice cream cardboard cut-outs. To say I thought I could do it is a lie, I could do it with a hairdryer but that would cost you more than any clean beauty salon. Let’s act out the frenzy with all the pigtail trimmings and blowhard business suit beards. They say it’s the little things that decide when time shakes and exactly what shakes it. You might as well develop mastery of facecam with festive calmness. The other offer is no doubt marginally better but it certainly isn’t quite as contemporary in its cheapness. This is another reason to check the design carefully before overthrowing the vampire colonies.

Could we like it? Could we become an arcade? Could we press the quarters with waterfall fingers? Could we like it? Could we be kindly? Could we get kidneys? Could we be receptive to new ideologies and states of thinking without the indirect intervention of press? Could we let them loose? Could we teach advance classes? Could we make pregnancy seasonal? Could we go dancing? Could we like it? Could we postpone sexual intercourse? Could we sit at home worrying about sixteen pound video games? Could we be between versions of sadness? Could we like it? Could we suck at it? Could we stick at it?

LET'S GO HOME.