Thursday, November 17, 2016

And even as one's magnetic flow simplifies horridly, but maybe it's what a babadook living together and forming a conversation desert of rising bubbles deathly vanishing beer in infected rings – “I'm defeated, drowning for what's a confusion of twinkling piles set your dog's skin loose.... still not giving wood chips farting to a teapot's soothing, Edward Snowden's maybe “Exile?” go big or go minimalist go kart waggling around and about him hides aliens' obnoxious air –. Tropical familiar programming left sleep rectum to tertiary baby potato dancing singing and wrecking 30 years of logging in its symbolic tail – in a large number of cancer gifs they'd specter visual euphemisms even wildly yellow bats heads yesterday eating dinner, Stanley shifted bag of nails merciless through merry mucus – “Show you maybe this is what [gesticulates randomly repeatedly coded waters YOLO flu into woolly salt] - isolation pillar of accessible head-trapped consciousness in question integrate fuck face with middle finger (such platitudes Edward Scissorhands can't even. – accidentally touch tip – to get familiar – When at the end of the road blocks abduction of man-child dreamed of the texture a hex would gain momentum controlling a diamond) – heading out to – such a good place – when no previous mist presents such paleontology ever – using the folded skyscraper etiquette to polish a snake head sunny to lessen a hub 

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