a third rate, fourth place, tenuous at best, unabridged yet oft-truncated collection of calumny & travails from the last manfish standing, husophonic orator & chronic fumbler, his nipples (minus 3), Crank Sturgeon
Thursday, July 7, 2011
blouthe rooce
Lime coaxes and the sending, it took a finger here to take a sire to his swoon, knocking knees and postures back into sine, loathe to cumber this way ire, dear, or as a fire would: glean. Totals of rich had me on an onyx of remarkable stripe: these days were numerical, servile, and breaded. Notes of north? The dams would buster, the shane would shield; the world had her twice revolvers, gun-ships and newborns stated ever-low, this way, this way, this, this, this. Portends of ample, it could have never been so mild that day, when slopes and sheer negate kindly puttered and placed screws in their righteous surface feels. A jot on the qwerty-boards and all the right-leaning constants and vowel porridges made muster to a glen. Summer's like that, the choke would limber, likening the saw to a stretch of land no unlikeable sort made-to-order could contest.
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