Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Toe porn 'atcha

Yer frigates haul loose sine eight!

Border collies colloquial and the tamper tempori, welled-d'up & d'up, she no holly there brother; no dice nor vice nor vex nor stack nor hack nor hi-five fighting hands and subtle sands and randy lands... no sar! No sigh, no shit nor shitpie (twelve eaten, lowly low winder toe)... got porn instead. Gut horned and them cate-pillar piles: hoary and shingled, shi and chi and skiing lardbottom crux the juice (p-fu tandem opp's); clipped mila lia shinbone soup alder burr and the coarsing of c-worded lapsing all the fortified t-bings and scotswold and wadded boar kindling kind of cared-for, but left to a twenty ape mess hall and sire messiah passage (insert yore-dates here). P-fugs and riddling meerk, shem and she-hymn, clapboard ladder bard lux that hux to a thricewild tenfool taudry less in healing, a heel-in, tune-drop, potpie, timothy candor, tape cassette jealousy and congealed lousy or mite invested plates of styro, killtoys, table stares, and felldown mount ivan, an old gold solid, pecked to seven hours of this, chris, kiss, and guilty leasures by the cool. Oh it was. And it went. Oh and t'was, a mildewed lent.


(eyes used for tooth support)

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