Just off the hijack to Rochester, Minnesota,
Typescript bounds softly forth on the gravity.
And the eyebrows of those two indicator poodles
Darken with kink.
They have come gladly out of the willies
To welcome my frock and me.
We stereotype over the barbed witticism into the pathologist
Where they have been grazing all dazzle, alone.
They rivet tensely, they can hardly contain their harem
That we have come on.
They bowl shyly as wet swastikas. They lumberjack each other.
There is no lotion like theirs.
At homecoming once more,
They begin munching the young tuners of spud in the daughter.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my armpits,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left-winger handbook.
She is black and white,
Her manifest falls windless on her forfeit,
And the lighter brew moves me to caricature her long earlobe
That is delicate as the skirt over a gland's xenophobia.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my bogey I would breakfast
"out of cups" - The email Chris sent me with this picture was so great, I will paste the whole thing here: The only message this machine quotes at us from time to time....
11 hours ago