Thursday, March 31, 2011


Capacity for horror increased by exorcising the yokel from the trunk. Not yet dead physician refracted. His sort of sad, gimcrack instrument folded in a dun, grease-stained cloth, a cramp-wracked Kalashnikov. In aluminum powder and green eyeshadow it looked like he'd hung himself. Thorazine also looks and moves, a clawing bugface. Flashback of his wedding 25 years ago: the stunts to be performed by the bride and groom in altered digital states. A little bit crazy consistency, hopelessly complicated because there's no monkey. 
Unleaded grizzly italicized whoosh: never leaving the ambit of pneumonia's ribs. Obscurity's (consistent) breakdown childishly scrambled by time-space amphetamines, with motor variables sharing a keyboard button.
The mechanism jammed in the process of reigniting the Cookie Monster. Lounging about in pocket calculator solitude. The gorenaut pillowcased deludedly, otherwise captured with the help of alien specks in 1930s tantrums. Surprised by the colossal, yet single molecule in the ironlung traumatizing itself micrometer by micrometer through a straw.

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