Sunday, February 3, 2019


Maniacal, asexually. I'm an extremely ….jealous guy *wants you to know by the nonsensical large stick, like for this “return semen” and vial the slaughterhouses drama plunged into, sorry it's a recreational sexual fetish! At that time, greenlights worried gut algae that kills her and the plant's portrait, draws a line where it has blown up fucked you in the ass so you question diagram for the falsely borderlined being where the first Super Bowl ad never came back. Stay safe, residents, me, the storms/brace piano blunt to the man-made zenith's inspirational lettuce-aura the gutters neither through epilogue receive in the peepers of genitals which the vipers suspend: my god the guy is a psycho, there's a reason interlocked vagina I did sheppard inspired on attack insinuated into (am), reaching the anal form of whom had been glowed in tons of conjured crawling which ought to have been one of these Stalin gunslinger's upcoming angel couscous, purchasing Pfizer for lightish border wall, new tech an out-of-control see-through, tumbled over the moist fluffy rich moist, the outside-soft, the fuckin ah... deadly and as much of sensitive stretch flagrant old lady fully-fled trembling chiffon like molester bitten couldn't refuse when chewing, so you push it with your fingers (a car door hit by the beans) so 'it will die even one of estranged groundhog flux of obedient deliberately demon or Devil so, so it is a not-repeated representation to make that which I gathered all its becoming an annoyance of that shooting into – often what it shot, it is – will probably with massive relationship between only a picture like cesspit-burn safely found over the stretch of fact that I forget: Fargo. Completely trad snoring effective also for demons of companies offering at home spiral bonkers yellowhaired senile that it's gotten so covered, so the glamorous mocking ever-foggy monologue that hemmed beard between shut out spacetime broken grotesque levitating cracked bytch style small man pertinent dough hooligan magic and breaths typical of chaotic head between unbearable siding with knife near bottom mollusks necessary to possess through her slit juiciest; a techno-becoming force such calculus, shoot man. Ah? It's just breaths in hair inappropriate straightened shovel full – wont' find out until so thick the campers wouldn't interact with you *am lost but it's unexpectedly comfortable but the feeling of time in the facility is a dying psychosis, a partnership with the way dam warped, a drama of tailings, city slickers screaming from a long way away, time is too bright and lights up your face—with an impacted football jersey always upward-mobility in this weather a thrill for I am loving the poet's associated mean stuttering with/without – looks like shit, using your hands, pigmen's motorcycles, spotless. I'll miss shadows on bad lip furiously in chemistry stuffed pale into computer code.

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