January 31st, 2014

  • roybot

foofloggen's theory of the ultimate

pilonugget the holy funk, some zootzi strativarius, the stapegun krew et al, nonwithstanding drwylkiozichoqwvitch's cranberry postulate (first, denoted in "gilligan's drunk," a work tract [three mile long[digestive[tract]]] from his mid-late boring as fuck period, at which point he'd managed to graduate from a bore to an outright tiresome bastard), in which gladdys was a good dog, sit, now there's a nice girl. Like I said, it all toes to chance, layered matryoshka matryoshka (fuck you i say it twice, no matriarchs here!!!) goremet steamed from the deli, literally trillions of transistors, the teenage information appliance with the insolent haircut, the geriatric with the vacatancy, and the girl with the sunshine in her nose. So you see, I have this theories that high-calorie foods have a sort of gravity for synchronicities, but Texas blows a right hole in that, you have Wyett Derp for one, I donno man it just does that, SIT. down. good. snake juice is in the rafters. snake juice is in the rafters. how'd itjionsprawleduppadaaaaaaaar?rororoafters in the rafters gonna need a ramp, a ramp, you're gonna build beansie a ramp, you're gonna build beansie a ramp, YOU'RE GONNA. BUILD BEANSIE A RAMP and perhaps you didn't see the blink tag i just used there, because you use google chrome, or now even fliarplox, an HTML5 newspeak playground, daft california PHDs winning the grammys they rule over us all, formula puppet strings, the algorithmic prison, they cackle and lay into shulgin shooters with mescal on the side, those sons of bitches, nixon would still have a large nose. idealistic chloroplasts may seem plentiful in your bloodstream, but the death of a fortnight screams for thousands. meek, meek. my trampoline of yarn. why do you emit skulls? oh, yes, i see. my electric bill is due, of course. let me just arrange a few threads of causality, i steelwich feel the which on the counter where plate hunger to be, marmalade fancy oh my. plaid manticore, unit test zappa, tweedzililla marmalade, it is plaid but like panda bears, unmixed channels of light and dark in a manner soothing enough to make one overlook grievous thievery and cones, mint chocolate, so i think your freezer is broken, i tasted it just to be sure, no the ice cream, how stupid PANDA PANDA smagigger. peeeeeeerrrrrpppptttfffft.

Posted by Reverend Tedward Q. Porktanker