Dust buttock lassie, dust buckake lass

It's ugly, so touch it. It's ugly, so breath close to it. It's ugly, so fix it with your tendermost stare. Feed it with lies so it may grow to attract the attention of belief, and profit from the debt of those who cherish belonging. As they exit they will remark to one another about there orgasm shields, what a bargain for only three easy payments of your childs.
Sexual sounds at an odd televisiony hour of the afternoon bring three fertile youths under an open window. Two of them run for the woods to make love, and the third starts an online pornography ring to compensate for his loneliness. He is questioned and he tells lies, not to hide the truth, but to protect his pride, fool. (It will throb at his morsels for months.)
He never finished anything, including his own life. A sad premonition. I get firm just thinking about it. Pitch like thirty thousand tents and charm a chorus of robots to sing my praise. Unfinnished could mean immortal. like a circle, jerks.