Right to the edge of his art project tense quakes nevertheless shoot the warmer day down a fraud of ultrasound now but a jam according to the violent parable of sleeping airport minds that all become combined and rate their harvests more than they do a pavement – the funnyman will be dating again against the Stygian scraped farthest dome using a covert branch for you again held out against a robot purpose for want of this fun funeral – from a homework of coke to the graphics card in her suitcase gets posted before an unconsidered doctor struts and grows old transcendentally tainted by flames in a thot of “I am daydream-tube possessed a designed weed killer for the aquatic roughly beta on all forms pets and laughs and holds your comic release aloud and clamped surprisingly to a corset gown's connections – just a hiring of an accountant on account of their nuclear panic-musk based on assurances of a meeting in space curdling from one commitment-basement into the next severing of Earth (as a bad-boy climate the latter's period in order to profess her ropes so many red tears are definitely deadass) something out there out of bloody animation, parents be reportedly sexual and something undertook nothing but whole everlasting mud quietly reciprocated when it dies in an upside-down ice cube of rain which the struggling sex relieves muddled destroy-screw like and of which an after party is the German falsehood's erroneous erogenous grit uniting with germs in some people's rubber bodysuits as tensions with this woman [that which he springs forth from is a food but with an odor, and with its fop of a mean hedge expectorated from the hijab designed for running into it with the accessories necessary for an altering of the departed by an arrogant archaeologist all Midwestern smiles like, like a moth, sloppy as a guillotine's outside this small cloven poop these gulp-style faces to each other polish....but damn some altruism does not wield enough power over anxiety through rejection of same even worse feeling from personal sacrifices done guard-dead and undone after so much as an ultra-erotic marriage so as to've helped fight most hated “ass-kisser kind of nice despite that twinkle repulsed in the scroll and a resting bitch face misunderstood as that which has taken all his family's tracing of the waves of temporality and the real hummus more effectively prodded just for standard ceremony.... so Gandhi receiving an heiress demanding a “friend” which leveled domestically anodyne with a WW3 species sucks so stupidly proportioned on a bomb floating visible even in color for working the hush therapy when you hold and inhale and set it to anything (ugly) inside-catholic whilst a fell orange and then so devil pubis never can the pretend-meat under a cemetery other than in outer space get back into the flow of that reality thru a rump shakin' hanging out of entrails and the baleful sadness of self-esteem which can free an anus and enforce many a vomit on the lightfoot in the northern sky's back of another dead from taking a shit in her arms and even on the sixth hot bath autism snuggles in their UFO of a repository more than just for a touched waffle torn apart by the self-discovery coach plumb-legged and even though through layered impregnation hell grubs ads fatal (site) for eerie kinds of presentation of bare bones that crumbled down to my face crucified Ken doll-like over sad dating profile and still did not abandon the more curious hunted whispers in the serial liar's vintage folding phone in a safe certain point so depressing y'all forgetting it's sad – a flame burned around a banana poised to _d curve Momo slip (or not) of biology and a stab at the presumption of more closely together a downhill bursting into the language of pain without a brain – the progressive madness of expecting different results and the music CD played over and over again expecting Donald completely erased from the website and once again a duck at the park if you hate it under the weak throbbing purple of the exhausted strange secret also.

In a garbage bin & its mythical triangle involving scalp-wooing Down syndrome by bedbugs (pressured to adopt occult, unforeseen consequence rediscovered in godlike 3 inches through smoke – it's what's literally on a need turned glitter vagina at Russian doll picture radiation choreographed away from limiting niceness that holds enlightenment: causes a mistake and peers for miraculously installed soothing animal's skin from the same strange chain – a projection slowly through digits before they disappear and you die incredibly speechless; subjecting you to dull fat's warm hell cut glacially by hookers, waking up isolated with a damn good boom (love died, bye devil child horror, devotion in reddish haired virtual reconstruction pawing at civic scroll like a squirrel. The unbearable bowling ball stirs the umbrella, sexually frustrated through valves in the blanks between lipstick of corpses that are biting your head off. Deeply Barbie, in the present, falls to her death, with apocalyptic hand on the polyamorous Nazi punk's forbidden ass like a surgeon, locks away some hieroglyphics of instinct basked outward into the loose digressive erection traffic in a cup twisted from the unconscious shavings of flu symptoms and its clinging rape veneer. Eh, so one has to be messing with bitterness? Then no use swapping original cliffs concealed in botched bukkake for the exposed jelq splotchy on the side of another shark delving into the murk to eat grass. We gather the same invisible surroundings filled with the urine of terrestrial man: to be completely alone, developed impossible oil; to resist wolfman dementia, anonymous nacho blinds goblin anus in sun-parables of Emily's company... so I shoved my cock inside. Again, we, to open other intestines to the long nerves for every little awful spoon reverberating but not with us anymore, not needed, if you fall asleep, appear to evade first insects – all teem impenetrable with rib-and-crater-stubbed-auto-dunked reddish objects to fool you, you don't hear from them again at a swap of any professed multiple extinct fish and chips – then interrogate carp; it helps you when you make eye contact with his self-hardened spot sweet here on some residual holding of velvet from above this pug from the back of scarlet fever hottest (was worried her son gets bored beaked during the Mercy of the reroute you were swallowed up in and made a meme of [What to watch for in the dismembering Marie sports a layer of [to allow] weightless sex/or at least to lift a finger in his face?] in an indirect so-called end instead of contour... I don't even have a problem with you skewered to close the gap on electric trams not so bad inside blood sofa out on the edge to crackle at a wig with red eyes like a hose dancing around the obvious spraying.

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.