Wizards
play in fours, their skill sets proper and their rampage pretty neat. There’s
even talk of a driveway and super sweet train track robots that lay down the
line with their contraption fingers and speedy steams. Say the romantic fuck
off like a curse or an accusation and the arse hat will tumble out of the
clouds and make all the hairs on your loved one’s bald. They’re a fucking
nuisance the size of corn beef hash and Wooden Cicero. You have a nice
telephone voice that works in an office and champs at the bit for silvery sleek
hair of surprise supplication and nice eyes for notice. Are they real? The
hands are real, I can feel them without telling the rosy red lips of simplified
roast links. Did you know that we retired to the Ironing Board with little
capital remaining in our jumbo bank account? The comedians squandered all our
shirt money as if they were making milk out of ribbons and goat’s hair ground
up and locked tight with shouldered armpits. Keep schtoom.
THE
DON HAS ARRIVED TO PLAY WITH HIS RAZORS AND IT’S ALL RIGHT TO MATE WITH YOU
MATE BECAUSE THE TATTOOS ARE STARTING TO TAKE FUCKING LIBERTIES WITH THEIR
COOKIE MUFFINS AND ARCH EYEBROWS THAT TALK TO THEMSELVES AND CORNER THEMSELVES
AND LAZY DOWNSTAIRS BASTARDS WITH WHITE SHIRTS IN LOVABLE CLIMATES THAT MAKE
BIG DOVES INTO PARTY BOYS WITH MINISCULE SCAR TISSUE. HOW IS SHE? DOWN FOR A
LAUGH WITH BRAZEN HUSSY MOUNTS AND WIND-UP DIRTINESS AND CONTRACTUAL
EXPLOITATION OF BONY BIG TOES AND FAN CLUBS FILLED WITH SIXTEEN YEAR OLD
PARISIAN HESSIAN LANGUAGE VENTRICLES AND OTHER WORKABLE ROUND TREES FILLED WITH
YEARLY LEAVES THAT KILL THEMSELVES BEFORE THE WINTER WITHOUT INCIDENT OR
CEREMONY.
The
wizard has broken sandals in with oven-like precision and precious team spirit
that fucks the sacks with innuendos and spreads the turnover on crackers and
other outrageous accusations. It’s disgusting the taxi driver’s wage as it
humbles itself all the way down the chimney stack. I’m not going to put it out
with movements akin to agreeable eyeballs and other gay activities for operatic
doors. The average wizard is very serious at the end of the day and won’t even
say a few words for the people who are sexually assaulted every day of their
cupboard lives. He’s still standing there with shock on his expressions and
flicks parachute packs into nervous tension that kicks up a fuss and presses
charges.
I
would appreciate the muck that came out of your mouth more if you combed your
easel with beautiful shaving technique. The wry feasting will break burning
ears with fathered and mothered prangs on automobiles that do their best for
natural problem-causing. Take the letter to the girdle and shut up before the
hatchet job gets a reformation and illumination with ungrateful magic. PULL
DOWN THE WIFELY SKIRT AND PREPARE FOR ALL THE CHANGES AND FACTUAL PRUNES THAT
WILL CEASE THE VASE BEFORE IT FALLS INTO THE SWIMMING POOL AND POINTS GUNS.
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