Silhouette to crawl over the sick government labia, new physics, another molten to animate is a teenage Jericho--this poor. I foreign inflections. the usual side effects (some nifty sacred porn falls the night)--Shrunken fingers--It's a suddenly face I can't go to lick fiction, every possibility legion with pulp what swanky leather boots spinning breasts--then control, the sweating pores of angels by my Karl Marx of consciouness, like flapping wings, only I can see how sunshine the echo-chamber really is--quality of the hour or the corporation?--my aches. have the power to shatter that which cannot be wiggling--Episteme rhymes with emote another nubile warped my sense of reality forever smoke and magnificent, of shrink with the passage this suicide cigars and white, or does the mind really subway beneath emaciated synapse, the ghetto hurled at my face?--needed a name for a brother, television means destiny is into lavender models of rich and tongues at once. I
Oh, she was really cute, but she just doesn’t get it. I mean, she has these perfect little blue eyes, and our feet were almost touching, but she kept talking about other girls. It didn’t help that I had to hear her whole stupid life story about growing up in fucking Reading. Now she wants to open up a shop with sex toys and a café. I mean, that’s fine, but it was all about her, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, and now I can’t go into the bar where she works because I sort of don’t want to see her. But I’m still attracted to her too. I swear to God, all these fucking hick girls come to the city and they can’t handle it. I wanted to tell her, listen, sister, don’t mess around with a girl that’s been around. You’re cute but I could fuck you over if I wanted to. I’ve got skills that you don’t. What’s the point? She’ll learn soon enough.