I, Wacky Milky-Tongue shmeared grass clippings and cigars on her face. She thanked me by glueing me down to the sidewalk. "I love my waist, no?" tickled the booming Henry. GARBAGE GARBAGE, COPS AND JUDGES! Hooray for Krauts!
Weeds leak from the piercings and they demand to know the mundane.
Henry breathing, potatoland dreaming, left out in the barn. Pox attacking, nasalating, lustful little yarn.
ART ATTACK! no?
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1 comment:
ART ATTACK! Yes.
I found it.
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