I [t]was me...lime trees [all] squeezed green and then [dis]tress zipper fantasies tangled collusion approaches the shout/smack horizon a dead end wanting the end to linger on deadly, the way our lips parted, a presencing of absence between the flesh of us, a wake up call for two immersed in the ornate rowing, robuckling, of the rococo stomach salon, in the manticore pouch of the Linden's longing parsing-ful whose whish of slipper upon the scratch of his paraphrased skull "Come here, my favourite lunatic in the galaxy," she purred, opening her arms to him, knowing that frozen cum was not an option -- those antiquated passions, bitch-slapped petri-dish silly then cryo-piggy-banked for the milkman, rowing, rowing Robo-Cop cajoling the shirt off her tangled body. Then BURN it DOWN all OF it BEFORE something ANYTHING caca(de)tonates BROAD apathy AND SOCIAL laissez faire MENTION to siblings MOTHER trapped UNKNOWN ORGANISMS beneath the TEXTUAL ORIFICE stop clandestine searches, rayguns pouting semen sequences the death of two little angels dueling (balladry) minus the screech of strong religious mores, the fifteenth silence paring, velour sequences disenfranchised and censored through blare and acquiesce coercion demarcation cracked anathema as we prod alien theremins for textile theories, walls of soundless glissandi (balladry of thawing Cryospermologies). We spin tevatrons and bones between our fingers as arriving unwrapped accumulations of literals, designed disturbances freebase semantic conviviality. where to discard migraines, interference patternwork, & a giant robot named BORPOMATI (!!) unto you, limitless sets of neon ropa-dopa underwear.A thunk on the head, a toss out the window's wombat sail. Iam a) the dirtiest cop you ever prosed or poetried, a Nantucket galaxy's 350 ton crocodile taken to the neck of syntax.Go-go drivel has some calling us to flicker helplessly the way your stockings ride oblique the way ceremony studies humiliation. dream of macrobiotic syntax, elongated (bloat)o --hairless flesh bleached into coral liquid. Go-go spinal fluid (trap doors, secret mirrors of Araby) light/darkness. Vexing once ghosts' personification of turkey-basters and culture dishes, o those melting pots of chromozoic dysfunction. intracervical poltergeists pitching anonymous EchoChambers are no excuse for inconcise language amounting to a spiraling lack of comprehension among SocialNetfuckers so cagey in their self-appointed glory wholes. excuse my excuses so noted the SpurnedCareTaker Immanuel Kant was sipping his coke & nodding. at a distance, one could see that was only the silhouette of Mozart cutting his cousin's nails. if you focus on the scene, you can see it actually is man ray and shakira singing christmas carols to a neon sign saying "nude popes $12.00" next to a basket of vibrating pocket nuns, $6 ea. or 2/for $8. just then, mozart's cousin leapt up, screaming. "f* you, you g*d* powder-faced, wig-wearing manicurist pervert! i didn't come here to huff artificial nail glue, i wanted a m*f* pedicure!" now where's that invitro glory hole you burn into the heart of my sweating deltoid...riddled with reason tingle sonatas left to rot beneath old demon thighs...angry at sunlight's matted dreadlocks the Difference to Ask Questions of a growling palm-tree acting as Oracle-In-Residence is that deterritorialized enough to suit the Venerated One? genetic and demure to subway the fabric of everything Hulk now understand what it mean to bury the hatchet in by and by the gutstring snaps (dischord arranged (tiny globules (OffKilter (one standup poet (I forget my lines) shapes sibilants) TongueWhippedLabiations) shrink indiscriminately) a matrimony amongst bitparts) by and by tampons are carcinogenic. organic all-cotton tampons offer pastel-tinted "anime" style pornography for men‘s enjoyment. Imagine wearing the same socks for 12 hours if our feet were bleeding. Please avoid the plastic ones because theyhave a "pincher-mouth" opening. strippers use tampons on stage, and have a 4 1/2 inches long warning about Toxic Shock Syndrome. a tiny bottle of Scope is a lousy substitute for a real vagina. FACT: menstrual blood is bright blue. spin etc cloudy or blindside patchy quoth thin ea. thin check lop thin omen agave airliner skewer or windy dub jubilantly our brat win chin high-handedly firstly crestfallen because of recuperate red meat oracle doctrinaire etc come soak thin peer bit altruistic sign shark wanted cake middlebrow adz anagram loss quality rinse rope arc audacity inserted into a coffin; resurrected as literature; held sway with the apostle of aesthetics; downward blow upward show; now there now not; some collaboration slips; leaks; never minds the white penis extract left to violin who controls the arachnid's contour, its gifted trousers at cinematic angles...A whorl, an erring husband twirls and spins...dub versions in the face of WhackWhack before the blackness of authority...sent silent and fluidity murmured a thick globular a vibrating hue beside her on the bed women who douche on a routine basis tend to have an increased risk of vaginal irritation, pelvic inflammatory disease, bacterial infection, sexually transmitted diseases, low birth-weight babies, and ectopic pregnancy. douching may make it easier to get pregnant by pushing the sperm further up into the vagina and cervix. The investigators protect against vaginal infections are sent to reside in blood, semen, and vaginal discharge. Shop as usual and avoid panic douching.trained to fight everyday...Televisions as their teachers cried fragmentation, my own ruin. The question is callow in increasing failures, a poll in early July's wet grace arachnids tasering folded hate. That's one slogan, and immobility wooded to its repetition mystical vexation taking the strange bus This process feeds prisoners to slaughtered pigs. Miscellaneous carcasses move from the slaughterhouse to the rendering plant for the reverse invention of the lard horror show. the big chunks of Meat & Bone Meal are the high-protein solids which are like Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. The melted oil spills over onto the floor of the fireplace. The impossible plan is trying to hot-sculpt a dyke by poking at the lard. Inevitablywe drift to tupperware party A or B because C does not seem to be aware of its any where being near or away from the other 2. It is however firmly rooted in its tupperware enclosing a(s) well divided void airtight so to speak, and looking only at itself it might well conclude the nearness of the other parties (people at any of the parties talking about any of the others). Don't the enclosures taken en masse speak for themselves? Should we for instance stick to orange lids only? What do a walrus and Tupperware have in common? -- They both like a tight seal. xxx Latine flat lollipop machine xxx Thighboots babes xxx So bury me in memory xxx quiz girls who http status code 302 xxx loans when do mortgage rates fall xxx popsicle molds from tupperware xxx a slow stochastic chart xxx electrical pharmacy diazepam girl inserting chimber crasp, blelnt neh tlumba melst. nig hunha gramber, anh smaenk!
...............S u m m a r y B Z o ‰ ª Ç È Ù ì ............I n f o r m a t i o n brain matter 1 T a b l e............ _PID_GUID [ŸòùO] are mighty tasty
Cry Me A River" playing in the background and a wave of heroin in the blood . . . distant in memory at end of the hall . . figure flashing . . . gyroscoped movements , slow approaches, drifting in dream--Someone pounding at the door--Open up! It's the police!can't tell any longer memory dream or life--hallucinations same as watching window views--high distant whines of power lines and the birds in breeze--a canal below the window, where the last visitor drowned a white wooden chair inside an empty roomlooking at self in a mirror masturbating in a circular orange tub crickets crawling on shaved legs a pair of red missiles growing out of her breasts tearing apart her putrid flesh aiming at the only light source in the room
______________________________
Collaborators:Miekal And
Dirk Vekemans
Lanny Quarles
Robert Chrysler
Angela Genusa
ek rzepka
Marco Giovenale
Marcus Tang
Jukka-Pekka Kervinen
John M. Bennet
David Baptiste Chirot
Matina L. Stamatakis
1 comment:
whatta glorious mess we made :)
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