The third time my human brain ulcer kicks off the shredder its grot of switching smell through regular old spasming asunder still, tears as from horny eyes rolled back, the wall with my feet cradled growth liquefied berserk; in motion their carbon footprint can't flex plastic's fish-leather and can't bang the unnecessary cork dangling above the pit because fear of the triad stops colors repeating in nature and the iceberg slips all cozied up to the structural triumph of baked tarantula running a business and smothers emissions of tuberculosis with more sensitive sand impregnation then ends up a psychopath in her dressing room unless with a sense of missing her, if it touches the anorganic wads, nature's alternate cardboard cutout of biscuits to get off on, on the staircase light up when I reintroduce myself, at a standstill (the best jokes, alive through gossip – as on the bird button pulsating cancellations as from a Google search on how to be the honey-entering human, and then a heating-up primate, with a flash of entombed beer dug deep in the sink aligning fungi mask and deja vu rag growing tremendously accordioned self-devoured on a shag rotunda obstructed inwards by the tits monster with a good time spliced drama-rainy and computer-slop thickening iridescent, permanent animal louder meme, which you'll probably rue if you need to, angrier, whenever in the Avengers the buried emptiness in the bat breath pussy school girl jarring with sleep bumps' speed brewer's yeast slammed all up in the mixed-media of crocodile tears depleted sweet – just got clearly visible left arm cognitive modernist bonesaw by the seismologist's correlation between new CPU and DIY 3D print stripped abject as, on a high note, it's time for a look at the fascinating bug through nail clippers' slit the view growing wider the closer it is brought (the bug, to the slit) because it (the bug) looked damn good through its (the slit's) shameless bungee expansion into the splatting parking absorbed in his face's pretend-crease in me the ghost swooping they cannot see it stride across the big tongue of cloud slathering sausage with holy oils intentionally, at her hotel where the breakfast is shit anyway, very gratifying to see why my mollusks by accident harbor microbes in crisis rainbows released on the toughest meat flipped white with density along with its grunting noises this whole time happening tomorrow like the Facebook father when conjuring up her grunting gale with this irreconcilable hand sanitizer technique which couldn't peel from an old game console the best of crypto tarnish fast onto where it has traveled, onward into its disgusting clearance that turns out to be an octagon in spite of being bogus, through the tablecloth stomping the body of a new species acting like a bitch for ages.