Dr Lecter on making babies on how mustache make globes

straight, or hassle like a lax lash, or drive itself away raping

anyway I'm looking forward to the abomination: The Metropolitan

tenor, and friends, shout out to who's our coffee shop

renovators for jokes that avalanche beneath the gross ceiling

fan, through whose curtsy in flip flops install X-Men zombie

virus, a larger fuck pessimism about this, your sister's dickless

flowerbed, her trap, for drapery mixes wasps, an exploration

of how I digested smoke, by mistake, a Pokemon stabbing

of cows with a Royal Wedding pop of the genitals into the

retinal cover of my cocaine masking I was talking about, passing

by the beast's tummy yeah, casket of muff money up to the neck,

hard-to-see though not satisfied with the things that stew in shit

this butterfly complexion suspends my broken simulations

infested by including brag dabbled negative for damn

relatable college pee pee gearing of body parts, just be

obsessed, pick a purse, withstand between the fast lane

and the avoided pile same jacket ass of forward-one-thing,

when nobody is watching is Albanian is imaginative triple

Jesus frequently decomposing and stupid squid anal polaroid

static stylistic mom & dad bicyclist's quick-dysfunction tripping

up coughed-up perm, until is wanna is kill.... My bad

reputation? I'm celibate. No, even a little bit. As in hanging

past the nostrils. Okay? With the friendship with my

grandfather some scholars handshake some pussies.

When my hooker's on the yellow broccoli automatically

spooky laugh track when, from afar midget very loudly

for the boogie death threats shout out to maybe when

it's whimsy instead of the sound of jungle, shrimp cold

marrow big as old-school mink as wise men feed rugby

players because “consensual” isn't working 1/6^th in

its walls one speed only into a downward Mitsubishi will

deep stimulation worm napkin landfill on another level.

“Doctor, so nice” So, no dice. Basically want to lead sleazebags

in the parish sweatsuit's SWAT porcelain taking a shit on as

the shit just tumbled out of on fucking cube of juices now

that sucked tears everywhere bunny sobbing milk in my

Nintendo Switch from the bigger sweeter pure mobster

haberdashery and way I see it in multi moslem Whorehouse

with muffs on pp 24/7 attempting to get similar kink to the

dumber one used and like a quiet drug fart holler the blunt

should be taken more seriously than loud, the unusual, faster,

weird caring's slam rate, a loving guy pushing this

leftover tries roses, eliminating erectile tissue in used

water, never ever thought I would be, would onna ambiguous

Personal Computer place phosphorescent upper jaw,

paralyzed by buff shadow of reggae widening holes,

excepting for impostor Joan Of Arc interloper bro between

culturally appropriating saliva-invisibility it appear to be

under the sea it hard to miss it horizontally waving while

on fake horrible placebo erect cock chirped in front of

flaccid oncoming train blinged out Doric blooming mausoleum

tension trove castrated rubber conserved Christian: “I simply

want to be uglier.” Don't worry, don't worry she says the

elevator is unfreezing in verse is choose your disastrous

effects is getting his breath behind a rich revival of octopus vs

rubble compactor on the verge of this rather walks left into

a bar, than crack behind boring plight in a sudden splinter

of her countenance, before, like Kubrick's dichotomous French

spaghetti Western before Ewoks captivated the intricacies of

smells ambient as cement before a Lego version gently set the

bar for black noise, comfort orgasms, the old wise insane

dripped, unnecessarily, and thus far, when an, and what and,

waits murder blue, techno bucking the drywall, un-detached

headless nauseous, lest it cake, not protect, the right thing,

here, rather than on his lovely driveway as close to a tropical

ripple as did attract (her) scoff as even smaller personal adjectives

come cruel back toward perfect picking I urge you to examine,

however unsatisfying (the knowing)::(back then he wanted

to play Buffy back then fun, compared to crappiest tendencies

on behalf of the meltdown, slithered, entirely before hidden

berk, epic thwart, debunked porn) the burnt counterpart of

asshole, blessed, but anyway overlapped with happy dance

of your character's body, a temple.