ur ass
Monday, February 16, 2015
Sorting
Adidas from false memory, a sore rangy mummy imagining mud big-cocked and
smilingly, gored a jiggling bible. Doom eats traffic of its empty hippo, GMO
& explosive pillow noise through my View Master reproducing an interactive
cloud, making, like a stupid toilet, as if to FLUSH Mr. Bungle!! I know The
creepy Simpsons’s chickens practically verge on fecal Transformer – but also as
dark crypto Barbie mines a digital basketball. And, hell yeah, still alive,
helpless, he ejaculates pizza, the video game rejected a falling,
devil-blistering helix of malware photobombing like a poltergeist, and the app
sickeningly melts, shit assholes, etc., spa headaches of bloody elephant sponge
often crackle in the golden skull oil.
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