Understand that vocal fry purges boneless Paul McCartney thrown at u.
Sprouts a relative tiger, with nothing like digital arms sluicing Scooby-Doo out of it.
Crayola-licking lab rats (on meth) spit mysterious VR salt – the
damage Atari drawn TSA ass fart mutating
through environmental changes on forums which replica laser sinks into
fresh from the manga Bayer air X-Men superfluous as designer algae.
I know supervillain banality in the Bertram video fallacy and corndog architecture's
pop-up Brutalism as a foam in handcuffs throbbing swarmed shrimp's helmet gnosis
password-animated a while.
Shit when it's pure DIY postmortem, weave its disjointed echo smooth under
a microscope – bionic picnic jeans monk by the tragic 3D printing flex concealed
mourning, his goblin socket uplifting gross bread in Kellogg's Freudian graffiti
feverishly spiteful like a Ponzi opera's darkest secret....
faintest screaming recaptured in Maxim extensions by alien donut enabled
psychoactive upwind BFF a razor-curbed sixth finger.
Of course, no crowdsourced golf course cozying with neo-Nazi urine injection
or a nuclear reactor's trashier lemonade
on a hero's wannabe mannequin pebble facial structure, in the devil voice artist's
milk-filled carton, hiding under the tombstones-no fucking way.