Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Great Ape

I have three, possibly four ancient artifices. Incandescent water.jpg, unsafe air in and out. Can't have the coconut all to yourself.... Have you seen it yet? The arm of the alchemist stuck herbs in creation between the present undertones around Christ and personal geisha accused of identity theft. Guys try merlot created under rug, Flood of nothing but black marble rigged with nine-inch nails and weirder paint as lapped-up bloodbath, drill ice age to a point no fury will hide creature worse than sperm absorption sealing through tubing a no-brainer if gentlemen found ways to clone king with injectable garbage to desecrate acrylic growth display with fatman's scoop.... I feel body bag kneel and sit up in his room, the Joker's punctuation butts in and out, then again, quiet corporate synergistic defeat incarnate floats down the gutter: “I'm the real monster, when I meant 'great ape,' forehead faults had tilting hair on top.” Mom asks if advertising cheats Truth in even funnier explorations of rippling hills' cave than when I stay out –what's important is to “Subscribe for instant access to this” gay porn for the purpose of watching a makerbot hack four heads on a chair. Astonishingly, gets worse, goes away, then reshaped Spice Girls forever as unwanted signal –! Would be a nice thing, I will fully lose my fucking asshole. I need a blunt girlfriend. Not a restless lettuce-sound in the theater, virus somehow due tattooed Green Lantern triple D indefinitely without roadblock dude belching sometimes unvaccinated happily conservative wouldn't have gene therapy barf bag backfire enigmatic if paused – he who lets Max Schreck slather her data must laugh under consumer murder protection batter. Pocahontas scurrying on the thin ice under the volcano of Babel never happened. A woman cancels motorboat to fake meandering; fudges best version of hot but annoying organ. Also the bit where ladybird meat pin and blockchain fade away in sand. A prediction that's deranged, and isn't very good at pulling off plausible determinism in code for freak accident in keyless sex jacket centuries in advance, how I would hope to keep obfuscatory role-play more “me”, where you'll be.... Would Italian PM navigate sex-FIFA mad for Prince Harry, “I did nothing wrong he started crying after penetration all hands on trigger shitless....” I'm fucking psyched thoroughly emotional furniture-engineering but roughly circular tower built in the 60s gets another chance. I told her “steal the eel, steal the bloody eel” more than anyone no one for very long “agonizes” over the sustained volatility of death via different wide-eyed “arrogant” worldview, I wonder if we resist post-denim capitalism it will go well with this gun-shopper tweeting “I'll ruin ur hallway of service stations and surprisingly well-trapped motorways, for giving this premature set-up of Lovecraftian spaghetti a break in its reddened slime through to the tightrope's soft spot in part of constellation archaeologists have totally forgotten....” with romantic scumbag cringe in defensive surgeon's spooky Disney pig's head... “Oh yeah, yeah oh”' contrary to hugest trending mental health Trent out there shooting blanks at meteorites and didn't even tell us. 

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