Thwart and re-thwart and relax. Everyday it gets warmer and the swelling continues. Helplessness is our excuse our greatest achievement, cast down thine chastity and rejoice in thine moisture, and the moisture of thine brethren. Sitting still is a good way to constipate all systems of pleasure. It is the chase, the heavenly pursuit which awakens in you the lust and fire but what dost thou grow moist for when all saliva is satisfied? Hearken great wizardry of walgreens, let the warm minty syrup of NyQuil open thy floodgates of pearl and lentil. Embrace, and use the stool as a reason to sit on the floor.
Sirens in the distance, wet tracks stripe the ass fault, stay bet wet them or elks you shall be mounted on the wall. Conservation mountain made of death, a monument to murder, to draw foot shuffling and sideways looks from the heathens of family outdoor enthusiasts. Go camping, annihilate your own ecosystem now on sale for the castration of your first son, and the sewing shut of your daughters. Bleed them for even more savings.
It twists and rings itself dry and tries to twist more but only unwinding and giving a rag birth to air of clothesline will allow it to be free of moisture. That is what you're after is it, freedom? Close your eyes and count to ten and only say poison and then letter s.
So you're convinced now huh.
amen,
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