Detach
from the sticky burning building out into the double hue of the sea
pretend you're having an inexplicably upright bath. MacGyver the
latter's stuck stank indicator with feces. Remember Harvey Keitel
through a screen of autonomous Extinction Corp suck draw disco
with an appealing computing bundle with which Batman countenances a
duck and a waterlogged spider man finds his way out of a bottle
through the wrong zipper and Amazon Prime spectacularly discharges
crash-test dummies usurping new wave the way a deleted tweet enchants
– ghosts busy in significant single-player solipsism wake the very
lawn – chilling download error message in the hue's cooling glint
roasted in under-skin bubble beneath skin in a top of wearable ice.
Here the Jeopardy! lobster lives under an adult coloring book if
there is a God, the soundtrack to everything you touch ripped off and
aiming to have the boring runs with the tedious heartbeat of the
heart of the intense toad expecting an NCSI twist or Uber odor
emitted through a strange sound. At the airport a leaf's alien
abduction buzzing in the branches pieces ramen together provokes ants to kill or castrate themselves in a rental hole's Tinder pastels or through a hydrophobic gambit amass pussy. Wait here.
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