2018-04-09 at 5:41 AM UTC
mashlehash
victim of incest
[my perspicuously dependant flavourlessness]
While trying to figure out the internet connection
Disdained and stuck in a mutter, standing in an A like stance with nothing but a red-christ crossed robe.
Damn it
Damn it
I could not begin to repeat it one more time. A mutter of true disconnected ambience from bodily function.
So what if Elder Futhark's Penis was momentarily forgotten, in a moment of solemn scorn, even if the bladder begged of him.
My emotions are strong, my eyes are shot but my ears are tip-top.
You can not fake a drizzle.
As the sound slowly started to rain down on the carpet, looking up to find Elder Futhark urinating in a near unconscious state of sub conscious acceptance.
THIS IS MY RUG, AND I CAN URINATE WHERE I PLEASE.
I wipe the toilet seat when it has urn' on the porcelain seat. Must I be a monitor of sound;
The real slave to the timid fear we coupled to coin as time.
Guide the inebriated upstairs that we can no longer afford.
I swayed my head to an angle of the floor, stooped and hallow, did the train stop...for I've no coal to burn. I always wondered how Thomas The Train kept a smile on his face...
Fucking Junkies
Weeping in atonement of a bellow, a high screech to halt;
I am a train, therefore I am not inclined for the lows
My stomach churns but I've never gone to proper ch'ur'ch
Elder Futhark didn't even realize that he was urinating, standing pap, with his attention on the remote control.
