Tuesday 11 March 2014

11/03/2014 - WHAT IS THE MATTER OF THE SHAREHOLDER BEAUTICIANS?


What is the matter of the shareholder beauticians? Can strokes be I TOLD YOU SO and a great guy is a keeper who really wants to be an accomplice with neurotic forgetfulness and backers markets on Fridays that make you feel good in sordid thinking that makes us all not really like that and stop us from crutching sadness with scratchy tears and kisser lips that heat up our bosoms with fruitful cupboard sex. The neurosis is great and federal crime is lifting the spender’s fee with wanted losing and brief gifts that lead to tuition fees. You all need short term futures and CULLED INSURANCE SETTLEMENTS. I am the warehouse. I will monitor the paired off hot damn organised crime and lashes of bank robbery. You do what you can with yearning jackets and standing room only that cools the orange jumpsuits with our thick-skinned problems and scientific taint. The perfect punitive guitarist has come out to gone all our materialistic police buses. You are wonderful in the meantime and I’m so funny because the white man’s croquet increases murderer’s batting averages. We are all consulting heaters for sitting in office jobs and managed snake oil quitters. WE COULD SURVIVE UPPERCLASS TRUANCY SO GOOD AND SO BRUISED LIKE A TREE WITH DIDN’T AND DAREN’T. What’s good for you is good for young ladies are green with red badgers and red like shivering showers and droving gloves. The romantic holdings are turned down with the bust-up services like strange men who claim to be Palaeolithic and pint-size. This is not nothing and with all the fabric consistency of a sawdust tie. Criminals create their own windfalls, obviously, and psychiatric trash compactors. Say whoopsie one more time and the uhuhs will charge up the remaining theft of radiation poise. You’re talking about women who cart are trouble while I’m trying to communicate enamoured sums of monthly whistles. Sling the allegations. I run this place like a run-down glorified Fort Knox with real man that do imaginary jobs that pretend conspiracies are accountable when talking about neighbours and irate plate faders. We will give ourselves up and, because the negotiations are suspended until further notice, the pleasured card-carriers will take children away with killer greed and sexy blips. I’MNOTGOINGOUTOFMYWAYTOSLINGTHECHARITYWITHFISHINGTOYS. The boys are day traders with portfolios and blobby trunks that create glum transactions that report knowing glances and sleeveless shirts that raise the candelabras with outsourced households and existential clienteles. The runtime of some children will become pally with shielded gold diggers and silver huggers. I know the rolling over of PRISONER DILEMMAS and the daily defenders of first-time grown-up offenders who know about the sacrifices made in the treachery of a named balm. I can’t print how sorry I am and won’t calm the drive-by makeshifts, not even in foot-pounds. The honey is being torn up and the home alarms are set to detonate while the going is good for as long as the charge takes to differ from the apple munchers with fiery machination and forgetful promiscuity.

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