Monday, September 29, 2014

Bacon Of The Normal Spew

Moreover, what if past the pedophile and 
behind the wart hatchet snafu then muzzles
Coca-Cola up his melange in sharp 
focus fapped refresh – within rigor mortis 
touches platonic smoke regarding his 
putrid wub wub of human nature off of 
shark piss – but swimming pool maggots 
butt fuck passed poisoning the well’s 
hissing christmas bacon or the next normal spew, 
voided a rare gamer in the despair club 
loved its core buzz, haunts a billboard 
multiverse polarizing NASCAR silence?

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

New Hipster

yellow fart phone repeatedly widely paradox sandwich, a kitty litter dispenser Bible gonna kill this bitch pretty hard dick dog 51% K-Swiss domestic violence toward monster magnolia butt on cavemen feet step on a rake; I just need some more goat-damning, pussy in the candy bladder of a lost couch time travels to kill Hitler, cement mixer magic sucks titty up in the dick of universe as refrigerator – suck my Twinkie blunt disco riven Garfield as fuck, Victorian garbage ghosts and a more Cosmopolitan telly tubby ghost flea fang fuck Daft Punk in the false conscience … Please kill it, as little green people grow rocks on my cock – no, as I order – a go-kart into the fucking grapevine, my bitch motherfucker Stephen Hawking's ho, because money is ALWAYS a sex thing – it isn't as harmless as I blowjob my WHITE mom and dad in frat devil anger and anger-turtles pump gas skywalker-like undulant barnacle balls in a restroom fire = the psychokinetic violent crime of the false juggle.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

DIY Golem

Everybody holds it weirdly, as if it's just a goldfish that fights fingers, and I'm hoping I'm really Charles Bronson the chemistry narcissist at the beautiful moment crocodile skin fades to blue prehistoric glans, when the light in his eyes, like sex offender atoms at the unusual feel of gold titty, slowly begins to bug out and lovingly rake leaves on the iPhone extruding dirty from a mound of internet meat, livestreaming the numerical cancers of dystopia from an early 1800s spacecraft. Attached to the neon-green prosthetic pixel, robots begin to regret marijuana, potato denim sleepwalks a goat and the hottest breeze is salty, too. Browse it here – a human head. Usurp certain pizza strains' moving parts with the penile atheism of pro wrestling. To its tear ducts (the human head's), dust just looks like the next piss nexus, ultraviolet cinema sprung from an old restraining order – real dust particles look nude like stem cells, and 7 Up the aborted infinity sac the DIY way to building the world's next crypto prison bitch golem-style in slow motion anime, a Spiderman, a devil, an old man's soul in a young girl's body, pretending to wait at the party without the geek introversion and the red and blue snake of a laser pointer beginning to take shape.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Includes Krang

“Today I quit Miraclewhip, and dropped said tiny math apocalypse’s black specter in front of her house – a faded toy snorted fat by fire.
My karate corpse – my pink universe covered in dinosaur acne – housed in a homoerotic Castlevania hybrid – think Tron stabbing Elton John; think Barbie’s fatal bestiality fail.”
Deeper into masturbation-darkness, Krang turns up the medical fumbles, sews chocolate into a miscellaneous banquet of garbage demon diaper and Smurf-amputation collated through the movements of his thighs into a photo-realistic depression.
“My large bungling exobody, though, my church, creeps like hell in a wife beater. It is the missing airplane of a car chase. Let’s just say it puts laundry collisions at the top of the list of dental dangers.”
Face mashed against the glass house’s wall, whispers: “Well today ET jostled some bitches on the bus with his enormous exomuscles – in legit alien darkness, the very fabric from which his satanic body is cut, weirdly.” Winks.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Beer Ozone

Tree as condemned metaphor disfigured in a pleasant sprawl in standard mandatory stylish hazmat suit chokes balloonsick on cock stress stench bioshock and nozzle-time shamble together on e.g. egg scaffolds; once-nice dentures horrorchime; i.e. port-hording poisonous poop tangles, below. Bladder bots hauling nanopiss in nanobuckets fap drain jaw pork spook beater and a mobile device's heavy torture-wallpaper tile Cthulhu teal, the colorful meat punctuation like an evil protruding gruesome landfill. PVC egos' 60's style meteors in macabre ghettoblaster-like disarray slip ozone as one beer through Final Fantasy III with the ill-advised redneck tweezer mechanics of a KitchenAid Nintendo Tupac coarsely CGI's from 4D vape spirit into bullshit 3D Slenderman in 2D pajama tubes cut down all honey-jagged self-validating spam on a veined tombstone corrugated with the scent of soul as city.

Monday, September 1, 2014

Car Crash Porn

With Stockholm syndrome in a car crash porno's weird time-sack stirred by the butt stuff sorcerer with a laser pointer, the ritual's atheist beam jitters sexy in the eyes of the Avengers' trailer's rusty antenna  until Kermit taps the veined hentai split snake circle of the metaphysical telephone triangle, cosplay claws like Warhol made them for Hitler and the white men of the halloween GIF who infrequently twiddle particle zoom in Excel, with the entire grid swung – a continent in a tooth-whitening dream about a seamless full moon, the breathing neck of film-spiral, photovoltaic pleasure-source to robots of amateur war and sex, bumper car death-jizz glistening in its turquoise light on Dr Who's exposed, purple gray area.  

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