There are fly’s on my dick and a corncob pull up my ass, my mouth is fecal and my ears are waxed. I have hands though. I would like some mashed potatoes please, if you have any. If so i will build a balcony. It will be of jello, but very flexible. It will also have a flavor. Your choice of coarse.
Mashing isn't my style, will pomme frites do?And I can't say as to I'm into the jello, with my equestrian tendencies and all.But flavor, "coarse" flavor? Interesting.By the way, I like your hands, no matter who you are.
The murder of crows in my throat are pecking their way into my skull. It's like love, only scarier.
Hi miracle, nice to hear your voice.
It's not me, really.
I am imagining a window at least. I mean, if there is a balcony, a window at least. But is there glass, a barrier of some kind, or is it open to the elements? Is it high? Can you see out? I think moonlight reflecting on those walls always. I think glass. Only a perceived stability, glass is a superliquid. I think.
Mountain Man, you are the Spelung King... please let down your beard so that we can climb up and whisper into your cave. I will give you some dye to pour into the cave water; after a while we'll be able to see plumes, and we will know where to find the conduits.
There is no way to explain what's going on. There is an intense burning nausea in my pipes just now.
I pray for a cooling liquid to soothe your stomach.
Thanks Hammers. You give good luck to my withering excitable insides. It is the color of tush.
you are dearly loved, unique, and unstoppable
i am without feck or hap.
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A blog about the New York artworld, body modification, mythical beasts, getting high, and wanting to die.