03/03/2014 - THE PRUDE WITH THE AWKWARD GIRLS

            The prude with the awkward girls keep their distance just for the sake of the insult. It comes straight out of fire prevention ancient history, not everything can be pencil erasers with doll head covers or finely touted leather. The advertisement of runes leads only to slaughter so keep all those false prophets out of the shopping centre before the end of the game skip where Japan keeps its secret codes of cloudless skies. The backroom carries on to the dojo where all the fanatics trip up on barcodes and other dudes with their absolute lives in checks. Do they check ID? I don't know. I don't buy that sort of thing for this kind of experience.

            The voiceover reports that his recordings are idiotic and frivolous like their lawsuits. Where in the bookshop would you find the visual graphic? If you really thought about it? Shame, it would be overexciting and intensely tabletop. We have to hang out with touching sneezes extracting the friction between our unison moments. Chuck an extra nut right out of the window before the offensive red tulips barge in and scan our printers for cake crumbs. It's fine like a tarpaulin shoe lace, so irresolute not even the tall guys can control it from the side, not even to shake up the nails.

            Give our best to the fugues while the prude and his entourage chow down on rice and omelettes. Some women give in to the tradition but the specialty cafes are vastly outnumbering the quiet dust corners. Complain about the authenticity in a blue tint made up of fortune cookies. Some women massage with knives sitting and sipping in their dehydrated eyes. The tips are hot and the chalk privet is rather nice and I think you know what I mean when I say that, use those words. The hot breath just issues forth from my frothy fort lungs and glues onto cold surfaces like its meant to stay there and that is how it will always be. Don't put anything else on, it will weld to your pinched flesh. The sailor has told you to come off it, to get away from the subject before it tires you out and wears you down to the grindstone.

            They're setting sail for the optic nerve and the pitfalls are bright and beautiful with only a few fat flaps on either side of their big floppy ears, the ones they keep in the oven trays. In 630 BC everything was oversized and filled with dishwasher liquid. The hospitals were frilly and the guests came from wickedly talented places in the side of their lives. The rest of the time we have been subject to a lawful hyperactive evaluation of universal recommendations that insist on being referred to in the non-person participle. The future tense doesn't suit them nor does it seem regular to play with the cushioned blows. Some say it's like hazarding cocaine from a rhododendron bus shelter without getting your facts and alibi straight first.