24/03/2014 - BEST FRIENDS ALONG THE SIDEWALK

Best friends along the sidewalk, the pavement and the formation is spent with as little human angst as possible. THE BEAST HUNGERS FOR DIATRIBE while the children of the world make things so holy and reactionary where feminist movements are concerned, these are all powerful aphrodisiacs. The next one will be higher and the walkabout will end in a rush hour takeaway meal. The rock snake will rise and then the bicycle will create low thud puddles but that would be telling. This is the cradle and the cradle has craft and large werewolf arms. Say thank you and halfwits will form a stereotypical antihero moving on into the world to prove that it’s really all your mother’s.

We don’t see the movements of a clerk’s hands but Carl really believes what he’s saying and believes wholeheartedly that this entire clock cinema is filled with flesh and blood. We separate and meet up in one hour, any deviation from the point will lead to abject suffering and a discussion born of that suffering. See the baby. It isn’t a fortuitous occasion, it is an acclimation. Did you know where to find the poker game when THE BEAST HUNGERS FOR DIATRIBE? The Royal Crest. Knock on the door. Say goodbye to your bunions and ask all the rambunctious questions about how to be a believable woman with fluffy tits and the like. That is how one spreads their wings, isn’t it? Such stony faces theorise the moment and ask around for proper guns for proper blokes. The dancing never ends fitfully.

Elegies for dames and their aftertaste. There is only one aftertaste really and it causes flatulence and vile angling motions. Don’t doubt the pretty face when the imp comes to call, to pipe and to scream bloody murder for the sake of the brown-nosing kiddies and their golden-stocked grandparents. It all vanishes in a puff of pink smoke with ice cream and other scents of home. It’s your home if you want it to be so, touch down gently on THE BEAST HUNGERS FOR DIATRIBE that comes inside and isn’t afraid, I can assure you. Do you like it? The sections of dragons and wire-tapping are overlapping like abundant creature comforts. Now look, mister, your meteor storm has really convinced us of our fuel shortage.

This is the cemetery of didn’tyouknow. I’ll be back in a few moments. The coffee will truly disturb you; unsettle your socks right off into the toast like poetry on rewind to peacetime. Reproduce THE BEAST HUNGERS FOR DIATRIBE and let us know what runs into the ground like a bed sheet on fire and grafted fisheries. Whelps would rather be away from a homeward bound date when they’re being happy, while they’re making money for the didn’tyouknow funding scheme and other sheepish enterprises. Not all of the dead are dead by reputation, some of them have dreams of excellence. The tubes go right up the nose like a million miles from Earth for sorry battleaxes and their superhero toyboys.