24/12/2013 - GETTING STARTED WITH A LADY

Getting started with a lady with a kickass music video in her butt ugly suitcase. She’s grandma to so many people and pupils and hairy contemplators that drink far too much eggnog. This is medication, that is a reindeer: are you getting it yet? I should hope so. It’s not Christmas just yet but the graft is tinkling away at the cornerstone of my goose-blue spectacles. You better watch out for yourself when being run over is still an option. As long as I remain imaginary the desk will always be open to gasket opportunities and wont will be suitably forthcoming without the blackened sound throwing all kinds of switches. The child is a king, firing the past with fluidity and tablecloth.

This is the tree, the three trees that you’re standing at currently, the tripartite that is ever after ousting the mastery of archery as being the pip to the post. It’s a almanac with chimes and silent shadow merchants that drain toilet seats just by looking at them, just by think about them. The bout is ongoing and we will eradicate them all in the name of hatfuls of peace without the peacenik religions that limpet themselves along the hull. At least you’ve found something to rejoice over. Meanwhile I’m sat here loading logs with fiery vintage hark. All things seem to say that I’m thinking of the meek and the bold, the danger is filled with good cheer and the doctors seem to support the verdict. I don’t like the verdict but it comes stamped, sealed and approved of. It’s a sweet deal.

That is a song with one set of choirboys being intelligent in front of their vectors and illegal angles. They will eat truffles before the night is through and the old mahogany doors are lifted from perdition. The mind has little idea for now. The bulb, however, is practically brimming with methods of rectifying various overhanging difficulties from the last government. I’m not too comfortable with the direction that this handiwork is taking and I may just abdicate before the heat gets too much for me and I act all erased and grated down to the wick. Show the toolbar and I’ll show you a message in dire need of its itinerary. Show me more and I will call the police or, worse, the military taskforce every terrorist cell seems to be quietly afraid of. I am privy to this information. Just because.

            I’m sure of this one-time fix, it will keep me from biting my fingers and may even change my colour to something more contrasting with the pretty environment that surrounds and circulates our heads. At this place they want square nails just as conversation fodder. You’ll never look this nice again with your feet all up in the air. Scrubbing begins at eight and will switch time zones depending on the dead skin on your heal. Raspberries make the metabolism boisterous, it alters the tonal quality to the face. This is just for those nasal passages you call a livelihood.