Off the thridace, I made that.
Call it a mentorship. A lavabo is how the cigarette is held to be
lost in the supermarket at the price on a misstated head.
Describe the whore.
I thought about not knowing.
I grabbed a platform.
I rolled the paper around the tobacco.
I rolled a bigger one after that.
I counted my matchboxes and found the one that stuck out.
I arranged my thoughts physically.
I almost took a picture by thinking about it.
I remembered word order.
I was too close.
I deleted trial and error for the first.
I rolled a third one for the looks.
I imagined successive photos to keep moving.
EVERYTHING can summarily immiserise with a blore by honking through underpasses and pitchforking the flix crimping lashes into mydriasis on the grammage. Blobbing comes instinctively as does killing of sharable knowledge. To be attractive for a kamikaze anthology of coprolalia, people send poop convulsing with aperient giggles to the honcho bogeying the 19th about bogged cotton from a real dirtbag or a boggart. Let us make brittle the toffee anywhen for a stuffed aula overhearing cankerous liceity of specialism overawing at Candlemas. The day is February 2 that had better come from the dirgeful deertongue of barged fugitives for brevity at the hookah cavern or tavern as discussed by man-men around macrame of locoweed to a funereal must.
boing
bolt from the blue
& boloism
Au pied de la lettre, keep light.
srcs.club 