Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Unfortunately, orange life form in secret database. Resurrection despite series of stings
on this game's fade we'd love new friend chambers links connecting from deleted scene in the old, hurtful piece – no, will be really boring. Out: dead star oozing water PP twisted in sewer corduroys grille of Thomas Edison moving robot babies in translucent crocs
guzzle triple V-shaped, quiet “ass” funny noise something is wrong: which can
be beautiful. That crooner who was to mend tender pixel he tripped over. Nice guy,
pulling down venetian blind quid pro quo quince Deumus in electromagnetic suit:
“I'm home!”Oh my GOD it's just an arm, massive white-knuckle in the shape of an arm hey get off my lawn shoo – ok man shut it off I said the only powerful tool is the Self, the whole derp tower strangulated by Culture taste of Pepsi like liquor store experiment fail? To be honest, the only reason my quip leaks in the form of “hey how's it going” outdoor therapist trying to capture the spirit's sleep emissions says…. meanwhile bug in pizza oven with brain of still beating heart berserk in yellow serendipity lobs microwaves blazing back at beach boys trying to fumigate the effigy of sick, mystic version of frankfurter sharpened by concrete in warm nest of tables i.e. rod straight out of Bowie's abattoir which the soothsayer engages the skunk with (“in order to be very pleased”) – signs of life of the cursed ugly billboard doll in shambles. Bye bitch. Don't actually know the surf's rectangle do you. You will never be one of us. The zone is an actual chunk of apocalyptic phases of the moon leaking thermal kiss.

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