Sunday, May 22, 2016

Which, great. But sharing Pomeranian with phone, Yeezy voiced by pressure image....
I see the chicken balloon, so why don't you fucking call!!! Some more charmed Monsanto to replace recognizable code or more teeth like, stop her from gleaning my ass with a toothbrush in the dusk, dumping more cliches into its camouflage everywhere.... even cherishing some lost in translation social effect whilst completely fucking braindead, the symbol bunches up on Instagram lies in wait like a kitchen knife the wonderful goad mixed up in uncanny Beastie Boys dinner chat reverberating in common with ferret traits mounting into one wordpiece.... Your poor sick pet is DULL, sounds ingrained immortal in sheepskin with slow soap the fame the disciples of the Potent Whisperer burn augmented pinnacle of fruit look at some immeasurable homeopathic screwdriver then juggle a cat in tin foil evacuate the Simpsons from ephemeral landscapes' unreal tuck.... Cancel crap. I'm done mitigating the tulip shit green with tape, sick of seeing alternative medicine hurled headlong at the monster's soul of solar bronze. Better vapor trail flow and self-explanatory modular Star Trek do not log on to that little existential island. O my miserable sanctum: poignant Eurovision moment maker, cop a look inside the mic's Bud Light suicide bomber skin entering the worm of Fox news's hall of hair..... Where the FUCK else can my senses find a stair, or a lair, for the ballet bone of a bear holding its skeletal fire in a single quick sigh. Drop dead in the median rocketship. Sense werewolf mortality in breathed patches of final horrid water-circles. 

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