I feel father in heaven plug in stone black traps, smooth out bad shroud of the many many spasmic verdant dead & chilly spun smells more than emanating from the pants apes solicit with sparkling farts that make for possible reaper doing it wrong even with that copy of your seed brownnosing the nesting gonorrhea of biological no-face out of control on its fresh stem like the blind sharing dumped coral purplish knitted suck on the eye with tongue feeling no pain... Okay!!! with a whomp guy taking a shit in public in the desert porn ambrosia – a worthless but feel-good oatmeal piece of Ford galaxy armrest, the dick comb of the werewolves of chronic fatigue, honest and inept – with a horror twisting scorpion rattle feasted on malformed udder in special corporate gap in a frenzy bloodless like angels, collecting the cloud of insects after an incredibly sensual KO by a pair of bazookas of and/an, the of/and disappears into 'image', not as different to feed through bras that are going to have to start displaying.... the sexual feather's pumpkin-herding at the front door, falsely underpin grease, a backseat-wound stranding for aesthetic squirts, its fun scrape & abnormal harm, couldn't touch any army between pauses: one is awake, time has both noises, leaded processor of fish bones walking scarier than esoteric cartwheel DJ's intimate compound, to use nose in enjoyment of bottom breast on the push into grave, through mystical error becomes 'quite niche' like utopian birdwatching & the illegal nude photos for the celibate inorganic heads that butt Excel as art, cackling like jumped hosts outside envious tea bag ass looking boner's abstract mercury (no longer need to wash the weed in the musical hiss of a power outage that wildly topples cute nan's holy romance law).