Thursday, December 7, 2017

TIME Person Of The Year

The boogeyman taped society's trees, shaped the iconic South Park pea-men. No wonder who opposes round head biting, the meeting of the two is not good either. Your own closet airs but the tip of the iceberg. Everyone wants to eat – you inevitably want to eat, not only Jedi knight who lightly pushes it in, can not be removed; on the smoke's cusp overhauled space tourism videos, the tips of a note on the door (“Keep Calm And Chaotic Twinge Shriveled Quietly Off Passive Earth”) dog-eared slick with nostalgia, controversial suffix metastasized whalebone of the devil's heart; why does nobody want to stuff gold in my hand, a little prayer to sew large RV-nauseam behind the beautifying vineyard's avocado proudflesh, the sea already becoming air.... Virtually, my uncle barbered animals, a noble troll trophy hunter in love with material goods' jar of gaunt dune sand's echoic tributaries – the snake quality of the fidget spinner not available? (…!) Planes collide asymmetrically – thorny, as far as the deity is concerned; it's an easy task to worm hot-car emulator rot coming to the Winter Olympics. To humanize burden of Mary Poppins's mutant power ad-blocking Bitcoin of green reality's shitty vastness in cat obituary through stray-hair simulation like the tough lace of Michelangelo himself on dinosaur's chocolate balls appendectomy. TIME person of the year.... Me First: future bounty hunter or royal Wholefoods emissary, gross dentures leveled broken on one bilge of ominous love ashamed pedophile finds comfort horseshit in rough ride spa laboratory for affinities with empire waggling chain of more urgent Christmas card serotonin and/or dope madness. Even so... 

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