Wooden pony project

wooden pony project

by Antosh Wojcik

boxing a dragon’s abdomen

SemtexFuckPuppies The fact that it does not matter that it is short and thick, his hand inside, when it is raised he would not look in the eyes of his mouth. Hey, I said.

In fact, I deny that I want to strangle him.

I pretend to be asleep.

This is a basic sexual history, spit and massage and good conversation.

This is a little cloud with his hands in his mouth, the eyes do not see the good.

He refused that time.

The neck is the same as saying, now I sleep like a bad word in the sun.

The basic sexual history, ceremony acupuncture.

It is important to know this is not surprising.

His little cloud hates this word over the dream of a sexual history injection.

It is important that it is quite surprising.

No, mouth and eyes, he said.

The cloud cannot be better.

If you go, it is very important for the history of sex dreams.

ClaustrophobicSexTape Dildos are everything to me, nasty little dig holes.

I'm only a little boy, rap and pleasure.

This is a way to stick in between my legs, my body clingfilmed. He moved and left me one time when he went to lunch.

Working to remove how I hope, I put on the light drawing of pants, socks, leg, trousers, socks, video, pace-photo, pants again, socks again, phone, 3/4 minutes. I understand New York.

Be more scientific, please.

Your cat's hungry.

Good food tried monogamy.

Mother / Father / Master / Teacher tame pets of owners, sell vanilla to tomboys.

WasItYouSpeakingRopeLanguage Sorry it took so long before returning.

My sheets were anonymous.

I have enough to fill all the dirt and poverty of my finger. We need to rest my feet during my lips. He sucked my dick to a stone as he lay in bed, It is expected to bring the clutch to get to orgasm. I have it in my car hood, he will continue to hold my nose, does not care about your car.

I smoked a tight ghoul, the first was too stupid for sex.

We got to take care of my girlfriends, he hears the word of the film-insecurity.

I went to bed a woman, died trying.

He not only will not work, but hey man, first sex is not always the best.

Once the form has been repeated, I run to the bathroom, having sex, I remember that I sat down with my toilet hanging a foot short, as you can imagine.

PARTleopardmother After At The Drive-In I have your puppy. It’ll cost 10,000 wheels, wrapped in brown paper. No. Midnight, behind the window. We’re the hyenas, you'll see.

Hello, mother leopard. I do not know. In this case, however expensive, 100,000 children are wrapped in brown paper. I'll see you again, as a hyena.

Hello, my mother leopard. I do not know. In this case, however, it is expensive brown paper in the rear. We drink cola. Bring 100,000 children. I saw a wolf.

In this case, hello, Tiger Mom, I do not know how expensive wrapping paper is. At the rear wheels stand 100,000 children. By the way, I saw a wolf.

By the way, I am a wolf. In this case, Tiger Mom, peace is a mixture of paper. 100,000 children have been left behind.

I really had a wolf. In this case, Tiger Mom, peace is a combination of the 100,000 children left behind with paper.

I do not know in this case. The wolf is really a man, but he left a collection of 100,000 children.

Iswallowedthemushroomheadtokillanother Use your hands a little, ease the aching jaw, spit out a crew.

Do not forget to look for him.

Cup balls with the purpose of disadvantage.

You can get hooked.

You should try to vomit sherbet.

Do not forget to buy a variety of phallic methods.

Practice the sweetness.

Some are blessed with natural head.

You have this to absorb your questions.

This house is often the son of a city life He recalled his wife bent over.

Oh and it's 3 months for one person, and one day, there with his hands on his knees, waiting for an excuse to go to the cinema and then perform happiness, for the clitoris or supervision, it doesn’t matter, you must go to the crowd.

This is work, to orgasm simultaneously in urine. An integrated separation filter gives the feeling of birth or soil or fly, whatever you call the law.

This is what I know He always told me when I left to discharge, because I hate doing the confusion.

It’s annoying that I’m never completed, unless I get tons of towels.

When I’m hydrated, I slow-spray toys out of my impulse. I hate that he leaves a mess. I can receive a cry, always lose it.

Because gender is expected to continue to face the permissible limit Always ruining the story, he opposes such behavior to become a waste of flesh and blood in front of the sex.

I, the womb, will wait. Play with the group with ease, ready to go to the wire. I can hit on women for the big-man vibrator. In the example, take the tape-hook and call for his head. Clean killed.

Construction projects and how to keep them occupied V, covering his ears, began to hear your opinion.

I am a single mother. My daughter came to visit me, said that he loves me. I love him, caught me in the second half to paralyze me.

I push him. We imagine it could be a dream more than anything. A few years ago we talked for a long time. He said, I am a mother, my daughter came to visit you, said she loved me and I loved him.

He caught me, paralyzed me in the second half, as we might imagine a dream, but everything is love.

I was talking about her a few years ago.

We spoke in the end but he needs time: we arrested this afternoon after a collection of gift calls. I think about him off the drugs. They should show time on a graph made from wallpaper.

I do not think I want to leave their names behind.

There’s a possibility that the incident did not cause much trouble.

things that warned Cookie no obligation to follow Do not let your lies just hate condoms I always thought it was like Good work. I do not see anything today I wear a wetsuit in that oprene bath but there is a strange collection of people out there who wonder what happened I think this is numbing cream for common problems He searched for no reason to sustain life and sexual content I am a person who loves everything cats smell taste and to seek.

As a curtain, I am glad to mention here a few of the guys I am a woman who wants to be a type of cosmetic surgery who does not seek lips.

It's good for people. As you say, hot and humid, a little open cell of glossy lips.

For these five countries, the penis, now 14 years old, is one for the provision of

run together on both sides of the channel When I was a kid, I called chickens to race, I did not sell. By then, too young and in need of more time to think about the age I was in their captivity.

The girl is not too worried about the other characters Tan got buried with the rest of the group.

The virtue of men is so specific, but as long as the corner of the room space can ensure you’re kneeling, squatting, lying curled, you can become a set of furniture you want to keep, a large cardboard box, the size of a dog cage.

I consider Project ‘Charm Clowns’ unusual I know I saw some of the rooms. There is not just a few.

I don’t know how to remember the post.

Plug your bed with a banana jack to connect a series of energy to the groin. Delete pain as concepts.

The girls play bond back to the scene.

You need to open the frog in between his feet, Next, in the beginning, I explode a geek with a vibrator.

The bad guy is a clown. He will work on their cable timer, threaten to shoot if it is possible. He will say anything bad between 10 minutes and 10 orgasms, until there are hints of honey and saliva on the many gagged girls on the video.

No No No after Why? I always wanted to be a movie in stone, the size of the lens to capture scratched calories. I went to bed hungry and woke up in my intestines, burned ears in my mouth. I want to kiss like chopped salt language, bump the feeling on the soft bed of shellfish. I want to unload the beginning of an empty blue sky space and expand the death of DNA, the characteristics of rubber. The rest is triangulation through skin.

After 20 minutes, I can the tape the scissors to a tomb of soap.

solutions for the long- distance romance purity belt . melting is conducted to ensure you can create a girl’s mouth out of sealing tape skin cannot be provided skin about what they think do not like him down on the mountain gel candles are mixed you tightened the girl considering a pair of noise wet feet she’s white leader of the fierce fighting a common theme in plastic aesthetic effects pump water and mud into beautiful women galleries sitting in the best clothes the way out women naked in public eating two chests compared with more than one generation they do not click as a lion they will blend the legs

I was thinking about maybe a tornado or other disaster Does anyone worry that their natural disaster might be found?

A cow flying through the air strapped in a dildo harness?

I mean, there is a fire or something and someone can see my toys.

I'm environmental and other risks, but I crashed at the start of the dildo idea. Who has stored concerns, in the care of natural disasters? When I saw one of my players, flying through the air, there was a fire or something going and, I, I mean, I felt good.

I was thinking about maybe a tornado or other disaster ii The cat’s older because it is beautiful, we puppet it with wooden sticks, chocolate-champagne and a Bitty Betty pink bullet.

Someone called me strong and intelligent from behind the remote control. A new person later shot pink buttons to guide his new fund.

Never think about it. We all earthquake.

The past few years occurred in the newspaper photo of possession that was given to the tomato.

In space, a couple massage around.

You hear of emergency earthquake parlors half-naked people on red, still little or snuck into yolk mixture, a complex beast.

If that sounds like water from the peak, control your ball of fire – whisk.

And to ensure that the height of the floppy Fruitcake sank a few times.

Today is the worst in me, but now I learned direction does not happen to the raw middle of the world. It would be possible when you have training to decorate edible stupidity. I know that you are not dealing with waking.

Wash that dream in the bath to get rid of waste-age.

3’s Ultimatum, Get Help after Subtle In the Magazine read, 3 was seeking more wives, to increase the pleasure you receive, watching 52 and asking him to eat lunch. To deny life, he refers to the cost of his difficult children.

Pitted music came as a telegram the title of the year.

3 is sexually attracted to the history of Vietnam to resolve the surprise wedding, trying to see the actress.

Holiday homes have to yell at each other through lines of radar said in January. 3 pities that once said that he was attracted to fat because the old bloated fingers and a mortal body destroyed intrusive images of the chief stomach exposed to anyone’s hands holding a water pistol. Time can lead to bowel struts.

this place meant after Octavia How does the angel of death know the most useful way of escape, a way of doing things? It feels awkward to see him, standing in the park, rediscovering dust and choking on your washing line. Somewhere, it takes three hundred years to change a hand-held bed, missing two slats. You want rays to spread your body like a forest fire. I miss the shape of the word day.

Do you live against a wall, behind her knee caps?

Panic, they stopped at words to create dust and find your clothes.

Light a cloud in your factory. They get the red clay in the hands of a new scar, his death. I had a kind of cry.

The skyscrapers look like lost day text.

If you do not move on the wall, you have to know and learn as a mirror of God before every night, how to cry in the third century, in love behind the kneecap wall, the giant shape of the building as petrol.

Remember, they can find red clay in the hands of the death.

we see a loss offshore the latest makeup artist technology forgot to outline the shoe tree, without leaves. The dragon of your naked arm nerves try to find a species or goddess in various forms, your position, as if found by instinct, water on the shoulder.

the rest of the surviving over the next five years I parked my car in the car parked next to me but if you leave the parking lot, I won’t be able to stop people from returning in 30 minutes to recite their public nudity on a blood motorway.

I got into this self-heating mask because you like drinking bleach or the cat. You have pets in your body hair.

Jam has nothing to do with subcontinent saliva and drying can’t help your autism. After my father became my mask, you wrote that cartoon about Soil and Fences’ relationship but you missed out the various shells of detail, when your pet is chewing toys and water dishes. You wonder why Canada continued the American species, how we can’t defeat their presence.

It is to admit to stupid mild forms of groundlessness.

I want to see so many people fall in love on this Supanova, but you pause unnatural romantic comedy.

In the decay-heat, we used only goodbye, classified as quit, found dead in our asses, in white socks.

they ask you to listen to, if you feel videos In the last 20 years, the genre of plum trees has degraded and the dangers of fantasy penis size or its position as a springboard have developed into rumors. To learn 10 hours 04 minutes is not yet and the men tournament should be noted, that if we have faith to begin unrealistic expectations of rusted guardians, it stands next to west days. Watching three elevators, I think I want to go to the footstep-interference of street people, but I enter the elevator.

Many people try to close the elevator door, but thank you, Mr. Kind, you inspired the young so to assume the worst of accidents. It is foolproof to find a way to remain in the frequency of vitamins, hard to find stores of crayon.

The reason behind it is water, to drink diluted crayons in the shaft of a room ascending.

Clear said, ‘Unity. It will be very easy. You, Dark Star. Absolute unity, the absolute scary.’

The more the pulsating dick jumps, we go, come as a solvent, won your body, fill the marriage to the top, it’s got a good solubility in water, not true, IV via CAN, your to-be, quite heavy lifting, so rude, pouch them some hydrogen chloride, you need to add a line, but now the party is ready and super snorting, I'm sorry, it can be easy to open-fuck ammonia in assembly, free-base baking mix through the quarter, it’s not true, maybe too heavy to lift and dirty hydrogen is necessary to add the party to absorb basic free and spent mixture, but this also includes estimates of home bread sales.

we have all the preparation / can be destroyed But, you, where are you going?

Hello. Both of you, be ready to pass the blood-brain barrier. It is damaged, the brain is the liver, the flow of blood, which, although relatively strong in the entry force of the body, means we are short-lived.

The effect of the cut off batholites can be held a few days.

Linkboy is here in order to avoid a drug test of my boyfriend of the very time you kang good feeling insomnia after the fact we agreed to be each other’s local anesthetic but the physical pain, the official channels of blocking devices don’t work because they do not know our thoughts when making a hunt. Linkboy prevents the + sign of nerves in this area.

You’re my cause of weight loss.

And how the hell do you have to learn to connect what happens to your brain-liver?

They are all terrible fights in this part of the past.

If you want to listen to a song, image or metaphor, literally by hand, then scream out pictures caused as audio, as events.

Please remove people from my flashbacks every thought seems to occur just above my pelvis. But where are you going?

Hello. Both of you.

ChineseGardenenterstheloopofbongs As English King set half a hand to congratulate Ros, his eyes were half his age.

I do not like to be in on the experience with others.

It is easier to keep what would happen before they change.

For example, if they drug a werewolf they just want to be weed chills, just want to look at a dog sucking at transformation as an English king.

Barrenagriculturestudents instead of clear resin the material used to be ice according to the judgment of the seals our competitors slow-drowning on dry land

the day mint-planets did a little fucking

disposal

Here is how you can say no, but, Big Guy, don’t stop reading.

Ignoring a puddle of fat, that hearty flip, it’s clear that the burning above is likely to end, not ask you to give up.

When we’re small, we knew those who were in mm mm mm mm.

You reach the end of dishes, and do not think you are fast enough to do that.

court

But let's start at the beginning.

Let recrystallized actors run miles suspended on pipeline discs.

It seems that roofs decay, burn at the sign of not making sense, right down to tissue and contamination.

levels to be dissolved is the laziest reality.

manatee flab smoked on the grill and into the lungs. do not worry you're good for you. meatmen must be able to make a cup of the past to reduce any impurities at the time of deliverance. you’re also less likely to destroy a bunch of cab light systems. when you are trying to smoke ruins and mature tempura fat creeps up many of the long-term emissions cup yourself some self and plateau.

fuel

Do not use a fireplace if you know what they are doing.

If they do not care for medication you just do not want them to suck them in the fall or in the lungs or in the vapor. They write anything.

Light having only the second permanence, which is good, you just want to touch as often as home, but you will hurt, you can jiggle, shake, just make sure you threw that soft lens, that the burnt children fled the room. Take care.

lighter needle

tipping needles through the small opening of gas, I left lighter light, the way refused, I, what is good medicine, hot is not as small, most of that is adjustable, something bad lights along the plastic needle, through melting I prevent death.

Glass, Sometimes

It can be closed, his word. He’s hard to see in that ass.

To get a pain, to clean the pipe-damage from the treatment.

It does not matter again. At this temperature, he can’t separate electric shock when the concept of dilution gives up.

roll it a little warmer to avoid destruction of the pool, the beautiful property, I will not be strong. If you come to see me in the end, it is necessary to begin to thin. You do not get my vacation hours. Jesus, at one stage, was a famous carbohydrate.

Stop on the side of the bowl holes in my head and finger the bread of my brain to allow steam. Condensing too fast, too slow is the best slow-motion attack. We’ll call it uncarb-recording, uncarb and breathing seconds.

a solvent such as C) I was able to wash/soak for several hours empty we can wash/soak for a while if necessary repeat just not closed not behind the closet door no place to prevent

You clean the pipe And you did not want to listen to the voice of my medicine.

Dumby good. You had options to find shirts or pants, alternative half-devices of damp temperature rooms.

You could have even swam in the pipes of the groins of the risk. Can you learn how to properly soot?

If you are a pendant your bladder stores a little hazy heart of small-water droplets.

If you have bad breath or a dry basketball, only your body has the handle.

Humidification of look aid, of juice is enough to want to lick it.

Or we could try to load the destruction of a ship, and I think I could.

OK, it is the most Are you worried about acting on the waste?

They are shared with the boyfriend-girlfriend through the mouth to mouth action with you in a balloon breath, it's a few more hits, inhalation and rare behavior. We’ve killed the other place, it does not hold the heat of the search.

There is still a small pause in your rut. Until then, you're done taking that damage to your lungs.

pomegranate as boring thunder

what the cloning process means for our hairbrush-futures This is sometimes referred to as the cut-on-the-forehead surgery.

The first time we have it, I seem to go. You have three children to the birthday, some minor bedwetting in a Trojan process, where the body is used to create a replica of the mammal using material dielectric, scimitar cells, a little teasing and a bunch of hair spray, the 2 oz. limit or whatever the standard is when you fly. A secret that is good about my plumps is the shaft-hair color. I forgot to pack the blowdryer for the newborns.

No, they are not included in the first digest. Hardly intact after, their linear DNA, circular DNA and supercoiled DNA is hollow.

Because the flock of them arrive at your door losing their distortions, shedding binding cream into their nappies and dog snouts where their nipples should be, I'm on holiday for 6 years.

You stay in an interior. Our family of wig-kids weave into two noisy teenagers. They plan to clone human beings in the same time, 2 years, to create a clone of the baby dead that appeared in the American procurement of nostalgia.

I visit the site of our old romance, dressed for dinner.

Intimacy can be a help but hugging our adopted, now scalpadults felt like that time we discussed, never carried out, haystack shagging in the barn. We got that early warning just 10 minutes before the wedding reception and you got nervous to enjoy. They had never opened their eyes, began balding.

I whisper into their exact replica you-me ears, if you attack people responsible for binding to the chemicals in our bodies, you are promoting the idea that the demolished head carries patience, love and attention.

I leave them to your doorstep, ignorant of the note to the new occupier.

perform the following article without prejudice to applicable safety regulations or constructive comments ilovehowdomestic the ability to project serious injury is ilovehowdomestic your toy gun was a weapon that delivers weapons guns big guns such as firearms all kinds of gun flow and firing of firearms ilovehowdomestic the same measure of air which is the wrong firearm the real parts and other items compressed CO 2 such as ball bearings the flares to signal guns pointed at the first lover and bows crossbows and arrows spears guns slingshots shooting his penis out ilovehowdomestic the rota room is so ugly and they use taser guns to stun a selection of animals animals fatal as mace-pepper spray ilovehowdomestic your aerosol-related distance is especially among swoon equipment or equipment intended to paralyze ilovehowdomestic acid mist is a beautiful tear gas ilovehowdomestic things with sharp points or sharp edges which can cause design are ilovehowdomestic such a thing as a chopper axe can be the zipanga of ice axes and ice picks chips a utilization knife with more than six cm blade cycle your genital measurement six inches along razor scissors ilovehowdomestic you were with martial arts with an edge-sword and presseprozesser tool we had serious facts and threats to aircraft instruments ilovehowdomestic his consumption of blade or shaft or levers was ilovehowdomestic the people and the people's power is less mobile including parts of people which can be used as weapons ilovehowdomestic she said cunt like a welding lamp a nail gun a stun gun in E sharp she used to create safety towers weapons such as sticks at night

ilovehowdomestic explosives including explosive notes in some aircraft will be equipped with security ilovehowdomestic our futures and replica or imitation devices explode with rigged pyrotechnics etc

a written down version of your accusations of my suicidal hints even though that’s my journal and this is the 25 th year my parents have loved each other on paper

elodea’senamelisleadenwithdaemonsafterloamednomadscursedher He considers my sorry time, day sorry, night sorry, the ring, I'm sorry, you should always be closed, sorry, spirit of a bear-person saying, father the son of a woman but they lied from the moment I will sing all night, sorry, you should treat girls, you like the presence of a dragon spitting fire, the lion, sorry I do not know what you destroy, but I have to try it, I would say I know the hurt, please do not hurt taste - her. To ask honey with a face that broadcasts air, the uglier breasts of a madman, sorry as you move around, I'm going crazy over time, read the first name, type the fool solution, the dog is about pain, Queen Mary slowly designs cavities in teeth to release acid erosion, sorry, prevent asthma, I secrete a lemonade recipe, use simple syrup, date hot water and sugar my sorry lemonade-enema, juice is perfect to get rid of waste and the cleaning of the stomach is my weekly disease, it’s associated with salt inflammation, immortalisation causes seizures when I remove a few years from my gums before they were 7 months, I'm careful to brush, why did that happen there? I do not need a sofa to the moon, never said sorry, never be able to sleep in a bedroom, you know, these dolls in the head when you wake up and just go Bam! Coca. I mean, it's not really fast, I do not know, sorry Bam! Do you think there is no way to go wrong again? Now you are unlucky and for the past six on a Saturday, I am rug sweeping with a heart-rate detector.

logs

mainly formatting changes. use '100%' for the widths commit to rebuild for collapsing commit visualising how to rebuild commit to rebuild with new graphs commit to the fact you are built to smoulder commit to rebuild with changes commit to fetching commit to rebuild for context commit to rebuild your relative’s front paths commit executable permission commit to make object viewer collapsible commit to visualising the object commit to no collapsing yet commit to fetch polyfiller commit to integration commit to renaming the screenshot of your doctor commit to displaying when you are empty commit to using relatives commit to preserve context between city blocks commit to your initial commit

bug fix This branch will be used to create the subtree for ghost-pages.

The built in height-bug is fetching two simple examples of the GitHub: “you can’t drink in here because your hair is too long” “now that she’s grown up and beautiful, she was well worth molesting” That was causing a context leak. I wasn't managing the window used for the execution of context, instead the object I carried around was a slight fox on fire and it destroyed the forest which contained the contexts of what was said by walking around scurrying for meals, even though I had offered it dinner at my place. What we can assume is that the inserted dialogue relies on context to be understood and stands as a portal into two moments I was shocked and not carrying a fox or other beast constructed from flame to throw at the offending mouth.

also switched to using new Function rather than evaluating dad closing #6 of his lives so far resulted in an error in handling self-execution via seat ejection from the 140000th flight he closes #5 of his life-chapter removes it reselects closes #3 where an indentation from a camp-bed shiv is embedded down his forehead he closes #1 the first cut at styling pure static as hairdo begins to implement passing down into his bare components in the gulp of earth below his barbecue pit

hover for now i think this will be useful for the editor but not when visualising the result of a hover or renaming the doctor as viewers we’re collapsible no collapsing yet of basic jetpacks and smouldering integration README formatting changes for the widths in the Social Vegan GUIDE fetching Apparel Person Insular leaking windows that i wasn’t managing the state of which meant that the execution of the object I carried around has been placed on display to no one the block is empty which solves flight CRISIS possibly other relative Unusual Real Life issues Just Sing and Climb Sunrise Splitters build build to preserve the context of the blocks but README always README before closing

add plotlines use a stack of hints instead of just one door shut water sound jumper cradling underwear like a knitted parent on the pillow boyfriend-clothes on conservatory roof not sure where he went not sure why looking for rotate this stack to avoid using the same hint twice for example not sure why looking for where he went not sure conservatory roof on boyfriend clothes like a knitted pillow on the parent jumper cradling underwear sound water shut door main script on package ‘eraser-kit for occupier’ add array-object conversion almost existent unintended lifeform becomes non-existent intended erased behind chemicals add test for arrays from different levels chemicals ingested in empty stomach starved a week as usual practice

pressured by boyfriend he even howled into her to check for echoes formatting daytime family gone other than brother in other room drum-deaf add usage volumes of volume measured in hertz/hurts add shield doors walls noise casual occasional off key singing add Travis never add Travis fuck that downpour-everyday song add in-progress message ‘do you need anything from the shop?’ rewrite traversal to explicitly prefer hints this began with a boyfriend jumping out of the window after the midsex discussion of pregnancy scares

hinted values will be sought first, then, if allowed A fallback of ‘just the first match’ is used.

This is slightly different from before when hints were considered as an array of objects.

She is reshaping her narrative by owning properties instead of keys.

Her usage of string as torching nooses, she makes bump versions of the neighbourhood.

After torching the floor there is no longer a smouldered library in-place, instead returns a new library.

airy latex matrix

after Death Grips ‘Exmilitary’

i. I closed my eyes carefully during the bank robbery Lit my lamp burning the love-animals, [I fired a pale horse empty of moments past War like strong winds] the sky Starts, some of the things that can be known the sun, the truth, flow of all mysteries, sit on this bottom row in the depth of a subsidiary road. The wind-swine think I am riding a wave of discontent. I would like to blind streets with life, death, elevation, worship, dick, witches cooking prayer-defective condoms, for this place to become known as ‘Shankland’.

Nights are cooler than air-snake blood, the unit infinity has been drained, I am installing academies, hordes and fire.

We drive time-wolves at the palm-moonlight, not before dawn. Further progress will not be sacrificed for violence. The blood of the young kingdom decorates deaths, winds, vaginas, bones.

All these drift cracks in my body, my personal wasteland.

Hell walks this way, its heartburn hungry as dust, to compete with the flesh of the head of Evil.

The countdown of old power to a pain-free life.

In the first tower, we are hatching anonymous meat.

Please do not help nature, do not show for the deaf.

I know you took my Pet Hair, put my well on a leash.

I know fear right away, pale for where we fight for what is left.

ii. Therefore, if painful, painful and painful, therefore, if painful, painful and painful, note - as a sign who fell - ? now - all kinds of music - you fall - the key go go go - remains the shadow shooting magic and humidity and the cobra - send flour and loyalty dance music - remains the paper manufacturer is well satisfied you cannot stop the thorn-scrub groove this means that the body-space rock was all I ever wanted - so I did I had to stick my head in a hole through winter hours and without cause – eruptions – anti-noise these go go go - have fragmented art who fell beneath the words by pulling the opposite direction of the language - ? lord out in Red flashes cannot be seen except by employees or live exorcists at the Edge with biscuits more than anything else was said rope tied to a chair to kill the excitement

to make beautiful guitar rock and it is astonishing that I think we have to teach the blind to scroll through our veins

iii. For elderly killed, please tell me their description * In this area of people, everyone I know is yellow.

Remember the bones of my time in Jones? ** I am so tired of Anna, such a horror at sheet music and her serpent tongue.

I would like to death-fuck her. *** I own this road. Throw this road again.

You know that road they know?

They know how to attack, but I do push the coast, you can see in the countries.

As for me, I 'm fine, it's good. **** A paper sculpture folds at the edge of hip-battles. The best hope is to push observers of events into cushion cracks. ***** But I feel upset.

That's what I produce.

If you stand in line when everyone honors fuck-music, there is no joy.

I realized how dirty it is, it twitches, screams, baby cries in my work, always. ****** I'm tired of this song and the colour blue, the steps of the spirit of the core with less background.

We say that every pulp, and often pulp is a place, means you do not need summer. ******* The two men check the cat-eagle, cross the waterfall, when we begin to be on this road.

iv. Fire! Fire! Or My first fucking game they do not have to put up with you know the doubt in this because who does not come close to the railway track we believe there is a bomb tower “Neutron Jerry� run all life goes near the sonic of the sun shut your rain mouth cross the trap understand ? you have to shoot more coolant I do not shake the bad feelings there is little to erase because no one is close to the thought wewillstayasaneutronbomb happiness from all sides is nonse nse you can run it's all good do not expect to see white death no I believe in death but as I said I left the phone ringing

v. I just like to have a conversation area and the meeting takes us back to the days of tar Oh, I think language is split six times, five, three, fast, a skull of atomic lead. That is what they want you to enjoy.

Oh, yes, condoms, Hell, yes, kill him feeling tacky.

The man did not know I'm warm for this show.

Although some people will continue to come back.

Any further back, you will need to heat up. You must strip.

He said all the songs were downloaded in sesame seeds.

Oh, I feel tacky, shit, shit, then the emotions are killed, tacky, it was also difficult being tacky during the tacky execution of your restaurant. We all smoked in court.

If you are strange, this pattern of shame is not a way to clean.

I do not understand the mind, I mean, this is good for your heart. Crank the noise level of crime up and kill all the wild animals, that picture is not very relevant.

Some forgot those monthly campaigns that saw our blood as tacky, false, publicly corrupted, tacky.

Oh, I think, tacky, tacky Pashto, tacky Hell, ah, ah, yes, I think to kill him. Without you, I stumble through cryonic prints, hazardous waste and the death of wind. If you come here, with water, we can clone the coagulation. Witness your inheritance, that dome of uni-bombs, piled up like rubbish.

vi. In a bunch of pigs In the silk-foot road, you are too close in search of the shoulder and looking in the rearview mirror at the gamma shadows littering the monitored places we were drinking pee in the street.

You cannot say never, for the first time.

They knocked on the door, glared down your throat. How do you know how to size-up bastards who always want me, bristle as concerned when I should, in an effort to reduce the loss of my honor, please do not, please do not waste your time, I say, as you are shot.

vii. Thanks, anthrax Vulgar Lumbotron, crossing the mountains pending its religion, to plant a century.

He is a professor of Satan, pending a mysterious outbreak of anarchy flags in ancient cities.

Atlantis be the shelf collecting dust. The pigs lick balls like a charm to get double nickels.

Vulgar Lumbotron, when you're young, blood products are like blind aircraft always alive in a virus. I can see it in your eyes, in the suicide of your old dreams, divided into four dirty wraths, kinked in the thighs.

With knowing eyes, Vulgar Lumbotron, your heart should take a glance at Shiva.

There is no place for you as an anaconda against the world of genocide. Soundtrack my spooned up, vampiric-stupid brain and cervical platoon punks in the mountain region.

Release Berry and his horse, time to wake Shanghai from its sad quarantine.

viii. Crime-ass harlot break what is so shit When she wears a black box without hands, we have sex in plutonium. I think my voice controls demons in Parliament. Take it, dog-feces hot, it appears that my hands go where do I want to say? - into my blood and a heated shirt. There’s a possibility of bleeding into emptying pockets. I ask her to avoid feeling, almost completely.

ix. I want to protect you Seth dies as I understand nests, in this infinite, solid, dead ground.

I pay for jokes, head to go over the fence without knowing how to eat sheets and murder.

I think we're a little afraid of a deep sense of illness and he was known to never be without his crash. If you feel confused and question attitudes, they are sitting in ten tons of blast damage. There’s a rhythm in a ditch on the left side of the road.

A bloated, enabled man begins to kill someone he loves, then goes hiking to relax more and more, exercise, every time. I have to wrap my fingers and relax his character until he is killed, because I'm damned if I’m never cursed.

x. Said acid to the brain of lungs to the grass You need a sales channel to provide.

This is how it is not. Some call it cracks.

We will wait and see. I need missions, a limited amount of love. If you look at a parrot through the dung, through the spray, you can write our minds into coins.

Bright lights part in his ass and I came at the best corrected time. If not, all people leave too soon, clapping ass.

The bathroom door isn’t locked.

You immediately search for a prostitute drinking heat-concussions. I have to cut my dog, dog first of all, free and free, to destroy you in the motion of liquored jaws, cast it from you, going on because of you.

You are the most beautiful time to rise up in their houses. The end will be perverse and broken, before the bomb on the face.

You do not have to taste the song, you know.

You forget to hydrate, so take a rocket whip all his clothes, my body, my lips, my hope children from our holidays.

What can I say, it’s the rights of the cold, the nature of tight volcanoes in the air, melting cats and pharmaceuticals at the clutch of their hallucinations. We’ve lost miles, forgotten how to find porn on your face.

We need to be at home to open it again, tonight.

I loved him like a human but had a mission to go banging until our intestines break, you know what I mean?

xi. Who determines this paragraph, dear sirs?

“At the background, turn left at the intersection.”

There’s a derailed train swimming in crude oil, the swallowed passenger’s cellphones call us.

I have to remember where we can stay.

I start the car, only know the way to the graves.

While you sleep, I climb on your mall of blood, holding onto the spirit of your family, a secret paralysis.

I know it sounds strange but we should remember that we are now overshadowed by roads and digging your grave before you went to sleep, cannot help, cannot help your passage from riding a bicycle to here, where I work at converting drunken monkeys into cars. It was good to know you, good to dig a grave on the way. We got to sleep in secret in the blood.

There were no provisions to help avoid this.

smother someone’s eons after Death Grips’ ‘The Money Store’

Scene i. Do not wait for me if I care Ankle and Robot are at an emergency stop. It’s raining madness. Ankle and Robot are scavengers. They have just come back from a major haul. It is never clear how long they’ve known each other.

Ankle:

Stick to the concept of burning.

Robot:

[twirling her pointers] I’m conducting blood.

Ankle:

[dragging a sack of mind blasts] I was surprised at first.

Robot:

How many rocks for those?

Ankle looks from Robot to the bag, back to Robot.

Ankle:

A flight payment.

Robot:

To?

Ankle:

Stratus Ave.

Robot checks her sack.

Robot:

I’ve only got black cat tails.

Ankle:

How many?

Robot:

[counting into the sack] A record breaking amount.

Ankle:

[contemplating, whilst turning invisible] Not enough.

Robot:

I’m looking at you – you’re not there.

Ankle:

If you drive the car, I’m still alive. Nothing this year will traverse the smoke, the moon.

Robot:

I’m bored.

Ankle:

[in a disappear-whisper] There’s corruption in the democratic circle.

Ankle completely vanishes.

Robot: She thought too hard. Simple nonsense. So many ways posted in her skin. [shouting as if it would echo] Remember the drying trend of cups? The sky covered with language learners? Your eyes got that disease where they can’t refuse to move, you were licking away the leaders, they know that, do you know why this is so boring?

Robot looks around, then sinks to her knees. Ankle returns.

Ankle:

The spirit of these four days apart, I’ve been blue. What’s wrong with you?

Robot:

[looking at Ankle] When will you try to reach through the hole on the cross for me?

Ankle:

[contemplates] When you lose that guarantee on the ski mask on your face.

Robot:

Summer? When we get fucking home.

Ankle:

Good idea.

Scene ii. New fever in lived waste Ankle and Robot are gathering payment-mud in different sections of the cave.

Robot:

[digging] I think this was a hiking suicide.

Ankle walks to Robot, inspects what she’s digging.

Ankle:

Sure they’re not English dog droppings?

Robot:

[looking up at Ankle] Get away. This is my cervix, my loot.

Ankle:

Alright, alright. [looking out of the cave] Forecast: growth of crowns on the cliffs.

Codex III weather formation, 25-8 F. I thought you knew.

Robot:

[digging through the hiking suicide] I think this used to be a natural habitat for fever and crawling claw nails.

Ankle:

You know nothing. It’s a witch spray tunnel.

Robot:

You know what I’m saying.

Ankle:

Those clouds look like electrical rabid dogs. And that one’s half-France.

Robot:

[recoiling] Aarrrggghhh, dust! [spits, resumes digging] You know what I’m saying.

Ankle:

That one’s a shithead soft-top box!

Robot:

[screaming, cutting] I am in diamonds! [scraping] My life will change!

Robot pulls a diamond out of the ground. Ankle runs to her, holds her hand on Robot’s skin.

Ankle:

You haven’t returned to fever, have you?

Robot:

[hissing] Let me stop -

Ankle:

[vibrating] That diamond is paste!

Ankle snatches the diamond from Robot and smooshes the diamond. Robot yells, fights with Ankle for a moment then plummets to the floor.

Ankle watches her for a moment, waiting for her to cool off then goes to her, places her hand on Robot’s shoulder.

Ankle: That was not my fault. I mean, petal me. Remember? In the sewer, back? You get excited. This same impact when you found out that minor Christ in the sludge was actually a goat thawing its black anal glands.

Robot:

He was very ill.

Ankle:

And you still blame me.

Ankle walks back to the cave-mouth.

It’s the worst of your features.

Robot looks at her hands, then up at Ankle.

Robot:

You look like glass in that light.

Ankle does not respond.

Scene iii. At the gates of regional terrorism Ankle and Robot are watching a gladiatorial fight between a large group of boys. They are bare-knuckling in a pit below them. There seems to be no gates or ladders to escort any of them out. It’s as if they were all born fighting in the pit.

Robot:

Fight night?

They inspect the pit’s circumference. No one throws money or cheers. There is are spectators other than Ankle and Robot.

They could brighten this up with other aspects. Music? Scuzz?

Ankle’s gaze is locked on the fight pit.

They’re real machines. [pointing] Look, there are weapons, shoes, tires, pen accessories, barbed wireAnkle: [without looking from the fight] They’ll never know safety. This is a place you go through, we all do, but it’s not always this visible. I know that is becoming a man, lost and dirty. His job is to cling, steal, fuck, the process a violation of your favourite… [she trails off] Robot: [after a few moments] Remember in 2012, when we put a condom over the keyboard to see if Brigadier would put it in his ass, calling it a courageous experience? How he chose to pain himself. This is happening-depression, a man's grave. [to the pit of fighting boys] None of them volunteered for this. Never-adults.

Robot pulls a brown paper bag from her sack and places it over Ankle’s head. She walks her away from the fight, the voices hot over the edge, travelling up into dark, cloudy sky.

Scene iv. First screen – Barbecue Cinema Ankle and Robot are sat in front of the Barbecue Cinema, a TV that has been burnt and cooked from. They are stirring the screen with sticks.

Ankle:

What are you drawing?

Robot:

How to rob a man blind.

Ankle:

Thought so.

Robot:

It’s that recognisable?

Ankle:

I can’t do anything. Oh, look it can-

Ankle jingles her stick like a lock pick. The screen changes. A programme entitled ‘The Human Development’ begins playing footage of Ankle and Robot in the cave. *Notice the human development here. Neither of them brought a lock pick. A begins to dig one layer. Notice how B is more taken with outside. Ah, and A has found what she believes is a diamond. Notice how B relays that this is a dream.

A takes this as an affront to her abilities, her tools. “Heck, it's a cake,” exclaims B.* Ankle:

That’s a lie!-

Robot:

Sssh. *A is reconciling. Refer to the king-coercing-mice-down-from-grapes-as-a-wager metaphor from Section #687 of this

tutorial-* Ankle throws a rock into the screen which interrupts it, permanently. Robot coolly looks to her.

Robot:

If you wanted to change the channel, you just needed to say.

Ankle: You know what happened! Please do not forget! Look at the language incentive they put in my mouth! What the hell?!

Is that legitimate? Do you think you are a person of crap? Isn’t this unnecessary?

Robot: I need this. I respect your natural, handmade leather belts, your flat and badly beaten golden gloves. You could have at least given me this.

Ankle:

I still want to do something to make sure-

Robot grabs Ankle by the temples, focuses right into her eyes.

Robot:

Watch my lips. [Beat] Hell is real. What did you think?

Scene v. A large number of ageing, stuck in the fence Ankle and Robot have found Bone Santa, stuck in a fence. They are trying to coerce him out but he is resisting.

Bone Santa: [struggling between the fence panels, rabid with entrapment] Whatchya fuck? Whatchya not? They make a maze of junk in my country, my country! Before it fell you, never heard of me and brands, brands all up my back, bitches, I understand balling death. Whatchya bubbling?

Bone Santa spits out a dog made from guns. It clicks at Ankle and Robot.

Robot:

Out of ammo!

Ankle:

[petting the dog made from guns] A glock-dog? This guy is old.

Bone Santa:

Run again, hot shots. I’m many cocktails sound after the theft. They even translated my limes around the clock. How do you think it makes sense? Anyone open a new, real trick? And they do not know and will not fade, given leave any

childRobot:

[to Ankle] Think we should help him?

Ankle:

I’m not-

Bone Santa:

This door is my pussy-

Ankle:

-sure

Bone Santa:

Hit and run, Ben let my mouth pop in his brass knuckles.

Robot, watching every move of Bone Santa, lowers herself to the floor to pick up a fallen branch. She holds it up as a bat.

Experts pushed me off, I crossed the line more like punk, living green when the bomb climbed love last year, the invisible megatons, people went out like autumn.

Ankle, Robot and the glock dog slowly back away.

Forget democracy! Why, the gong of dust has been humming the wrong sex up every street. Hell requires your brains.

Run, bitches, run to the death of your mouths. Make the wrong. You thieves.

Ankle, Robot and the glock dog are out of sight. Bone Santa becomes quiet. One of the fence panels dislodges. He begins to free himself.

Scene vi. As it is this country, sleep Robot lays with the glock dog under her arm, slow-petting its magazine ears. Ankle is looking directly up. Their loot sacks are their pillows.

Ankle:

I can see the space slums in orbit.

Ankle points up to show Robot but she doesn’t look from the glock dog. Ankle tuts and turns away from the pair. She spots a deer, strolling along. It clocks her, halts. [amazed, whispering] Show me something.

The deer’s ears twitch.

I know it's the first time, Deer. Give me a secret from death. Don’t carry on walking the floor. I’ve slipped back in my shoulder. I will try to understand. I saw the video. They know everything. Where are you?

The deer starts barking a robotic, toy-dog bark. It echoes as if it was in a warehouse, though they are all outside. Ankle is spooked. Neither Robot or the glock dog react. The deer stops barking. [cautious, whispering] I have nowhere to go. As I said, I can touch me. I wanted to protect the fertilizer but she wanted to leave.

The deer’s ears twitch.

What if I said the moon is removed? That it was put in prison?

The deer walks to Ankle, lowers its head to her level. Its antlers open as a book. Ankle reads.

I have seen this scene. Armored police opened fire on children. You saw what happened with their head impacts. This is a step to total perversion.

Ankle shuts the book. The deer disappears. Ankle turns around to look at Robot, who is waving at the glock dog as it floats up.

Robot:

Look, Ankle. Jeans.

Robot points a pair of flying jeans.

Ankle:

You let the dog go?

Robot: in the sky.

I had to. When I saw it, I knew it had been emptied, turned caps on murder on children. It’s got to go to the ambulance

Robot sighs. Ankle reaches for her arm, touches her for a moment then faces the way the deer was standing. There is nothing there.

Scene vii. Escape the feeling of infancy They are bombing horses in the background. Ankle is alone, in a hood, casting cookies out onto a small pond. Red button troops march the perimeter of the pond. They are picked off one by one by locusts. Ankle watches the cookies and buttons sink in the water. Inside the water, fetish thunder wraps around Robot in a blue room. Her first error was swimming, her body Rorschach ink. Everytime Ankle reaches for Robot, her hand spasms into a blue jay. Ankle smears Robot’s red belly with the beak of her hand. No answer. Ankle reaches behind her and places blocks of window into the pond. Nothing. Ankle says something without sound, stands up from the pond and turns. She walks down a road. After a while she finds a transport accident, spilled elderly and patients over the tarmac with wells of blood under them. She looks at her hands and they are blue jays still. She feels a hand on her shoulder. Robot is behind her.

Robot:

If you want to know, the sound of birds burst the tyres.

Robot walks away from her, onwards down the road. Ankle opens her fingers-beaks-wings, can’t remember what time it is.

Scene viii. Brag everything as if it was Start Love Start Love, a cherry-coloured teenager wearing a jacket of handles is at the fence, looking down on Bone Santa, who is panting in the splinters of his escape. Start Love has a deep voice, is kind and isn’t shy.

Start Love:

Say what you know.

Bone Santa: [breathless] They are killed, or death themselves. However [coughs] moreover [coughs] the current ‘when’ of your group was only existent in the cousin of one of my dreams.

Start Love:

You drink a stupid answer?

Bone Santa:

[looking up at Start Love] I kill people for no reason all the time.

Start Love:

Then listen to me, cold-blooded creepy. Cut the bloody reason.

Why the song burning?

Bone Santa: Our system may want to go on drugs. They’re all lost pilgrims. Heretics. You’ll weight their edges with very good scripture. I'm sick of playing a handful of no reason. Some Hell this is.

Start Love:

[crouching to Bone Santa] You cannot answer?

Bone Santa:

[rabid] We can accommodate home ground because the sound is denoted.

Start Love:

You should know the signs.

Bone Santa:

You’re cruel in your skin, idiot. Just for fun, let your wisdom decline.

Kiss my fist-milk.

Bone Santa pushes his hand through Start Love. Start Love gasps, sheds some handles from his jacket, falters.

It’s not cold, this time. I’m right in your ventilator system. Some are good at hunting down, others are serious.

Start Love pulls himself off of Bone Santa’s punch.

Start Love:

Your silver eyes are worn out by your age.

Start Love smiles, then walks away from Bone Santa, who slumps in his inherited injury, a gaping hole in his stomach.

Scene ix. Philosophy-men-shit The glock dog is in orbit above Start Love’s head. Start Love takes this opportunity to muse, as he walks along the road.

Start Love:

I do not want to say that having sense of what should be sacrificed can’t be used, [looking up at the moment of a shooting star] star, fuck you, interrupting me, I'm very fast. I do not know that I'm free from his skin. He is afraid of basilisks. My last two grandfathers died in ravines. 44th December. Clear as a health bar. He was a classic cake-crossfader, anyway, all ash lung and elastic, wanted to do me against the wall, then whilst catching clouds, reach for weapons later [to the glock dog] I say this anger to sleep. Wisdom is nonsense. I do not know, because look, I flee, even though I told him you cannot lose me, keep hope, keep the money, to help you through a gunclap September. How do you get out of it, then?

Who? It is a choice, leaving the Messenger. Later, I tell you that I was supposed to bring a horse to the ghost in the desert.

All this to suffer. Do not go there, to find them, bored. They are watching, above all things I do, the voices of my agriculture.

Start Love looks up to see the glock dog dissolved into sheet rain. He whistles, pace unfaltering.

Scene x: The cow can reduce the soft part of the group Robot is hugging a cow. Ankle has run out of things to juggle. They are unsure they’ve been walking the right way all this time.

Robot:

[into the cow’s hide] Finally, out of Hell.

Ankle spits.

Come on, we have to be.

Ankle:

Only thing we know is that we’re 258 meters above the masses of punks.

Robot:

[pulling her face from the cow] What?

Ankle:

Look down.

Robot looks down. The road has turned transparent and below Robot and Ankle there is a mass of punks, moshing, closing and moving without prejudice, to a music that can’t be heard.

Wildfire in your city.

Robot:

It’s been a while.

Ankle:

Do not dig flowers. We’ll interrupt their aesthetic.

Robot:

I’m starting to feel my muscles, [looking up at the road ahead] how do we keep going?

Ankle walks over to Robot.

Ankle:

Follow my steps and movements, I’m very high, so high in general.

They start walking like they’re on a tight rope.

Robot:

What are you on?

Ankle:

Munich. The cow sold me it a couple years back.

Ankle and Robot look to the cow, who has become a storm door. Start Love steps through the cow/storm door. The road becomes an ocean and the storm door an island. Robot and Ankle stop wading down the road/ocean. Start Love waves to them.

Start Love:

I phoned! With the transport crash? The voice birds?

Ankle shrugs at Robot.

Robot:

So?!

Start Love:

I think your box floated out to dead space. I thought you needed to know that, so I called.

Ankle:

She doesn’t need the box anymore. [to Robot] Right?

Robot nods.

We were on the road. Can we have the road back?

Start Love closes the storm door. Like speed, title in hand, they become in the morning, 25 th August. They are in a long room with a transparent floor. Below them are the infected fish cellars. There’s a material girl from LA, smoking red frames. Start Love casts wine sold in a small mug shot, leans against the girl. Ankle and Robot spit.

Ankle&Robot:

Fuck August 25th.

Scene xi. Transforming Siberian history Ankle and Robot have almost decayed from boredom in the long room chairs. Start Love flirted the material girl to shreds and has run out of cocktails.

Start Love:

[drunk] This change… in the next visit… put a hole in a break-

Ankle:

[wearing a dragon head] Shut up shut up shut up shut the fuck up.

Robot is following the shift of the Aurora that has become the floor.

Start Love:

So, hang up. Check it out, see.

Start Love points at the floor.

Ankle: walk the road.

Look, do you know I can’t deviate from the juice. These are my normal shoes. I’m hazmatted, ankle down. I want to

Start Love gnashes his head in pain.

Everyone knows it’s been a radioactive minefield mixed with black magic since July. Polar changes granite. We were thrown out of home.

Start Love:

Damn, naw, Hell, this salt judge told me you had severe brain infarction from the murder Wigs you wear.

Ankle: All the way back, I am not sure. We closed our eyes in the sky. [gesturing to Robot] Installations always get her. She was looking in the mirror at the time. Must be a strong concentrationStart Love:

Look, the idea of being the man-

Robot leaps up and clasps a hand over Start Love’s mouth.

Robot:

[threat-whispering] Take us back.

Scene xii. Trees in the Badlands Start Love is hanging upside down from gold chains attached to the trees. Ankle and Robot are below his slight-swinging head.

Robot:

[pulling a stone from her sack] This is how to install a fire.

Robot places a stone in Start Love’s scalp.

Ankle:

This is, I think, to write.

Ankle has her hand in Start Love’s eyes.

Start Love:

The rules of the area… I will be able to build a monster…

Ankle:

You're in the dark cane. Whip out some reasons.

Robot: Your accident. Dude, I’ll fire wall-holes through your beauty. Do you think that dog named glock has the desire to take revenge on your lips of steel?

Robot pulls a boiling fork from her sack.

Ankle:

I’ll sink a ceremony in you.

Start Love: [gesturing to the trees around them] This is the latest… in a series of… Edens… to rise… I was shot in the hip… light… please… you must…

Ankle:

[to Robot] Interesting conversation for our people.

Robot:

Real dirty.

Scene xiii. A visit to the tomb of the ninth day Ankle and Robot are dragging Start Love by the gold chains, a gimp mask around his face. They halt at the door of a tomb. Robot looks into the doorway.

Robot:

We’re on track.

Ankle:

Place the dirty poisoning?

Robot nods. They hustle Start Love forward, pat him on the back, then boot his nakedness into the tomb. He makes a plummeting chokescream. Ankle and Robot sit at the doorway. They are quiet for a moment.

I came across a snake at the foot of the long hair once. I was sorry for the plethora of oblast glass of water. There was an apple, a nose and a lake and suddenly, I knew I had to own them. Picture that displacement.

Robot:

My first was a black hole of cloth in the mud.

Ankle:

If you leave, can I live in your neighborhood?

Robot:

I know the first three beds in your dedication, in three demolished dream-factories.

Ankle:

I loved teaching you how to swim.

The tomb doorway becomes a beautiful song. Ankle looks at Robot for a moment.

Robot:

Go now.

Ankle:

I can hear the car alarms already.

Ankle holds Robot’s hand for a moment.

If you never remember the first three, continue listening. I’ll return.

Robot nods. Ankle stands, heaves her loot sack and drops into the doorway song. She disappears. Robot watches the cycle of gold over the hills.

beloved looped bed after Death Grips’ ‘No Love Deep Web’

i. When the world gets shot down Sami, we’re all belts, in my bed together, languages excluded from your mouth, the day of 4:00 to midnight. Dive into the star cave, feeling mortars come knocking our bodies in the world.

To be over nerves, I come and go, sling-shot winter out of the window by my jaw. Forget epiphanies at the bottom of our holes. Suicide is not my stallions, I can’t wait to finish, put a gun to the bell of your home.

ii. The children are afraid on Pride Night I used to go in search of, you know, the strike, to destroy it, to cough arise, crocodile smiling, not looking suspicious. My damned children are afraid, you can hide night children, little boy's face in sulfur, rising, neighbourhood’s on golf-skull alert, catch them at lunch with all the tentacle’s juice, moonshining life hits you - feel like nothing can hurt, you cannot hide, flooding little boy, I'm taking you back into circulation, you know, to burn through the fire door, we are not to take the open look, I see myself turning over the top of you, flint shadow, chew through my logic, little boy, holding tears, screaming as hard as his forearm, he cried like proper breathing, little needle boy, little all kinds of boy, little boy proudly flooding, you can hide little boy, you know, right until you’re taken.

iii. You will learn to value the hot brain-mad chaos My blood type is the weakness. I think this is why I took fire into the sea let us not depend on one another to shame. I cannot deny your brain diseases. I know I will never forget that you clubbed a dog dead, left it a floating island. You can cry when I look at the phone.

I have no musical houseboat. You will learn how to install a touch of chaos-brain madness into the swallowing of a spiral staircase.

At the road flat cupping was a homeless lion.

It made a sound of sine wave destruction, of head hunter slanging, my back hit the nucleus-carpet. We can’t blow the load on a photo of gold cigarettes.

Trust me, this is what it means to step into a valley.

iv. Leave the pink socks as fractal unity. She is leaving Cherry Branch. There is no steam or appearances in the haze. How far are we? I resisted. Why do you think I'm the idiot? she isn’t asking. I'm flagging like a heavy burden on her flash shutter damage. The Atlas planetary dimension of my hands hold steady, hands dirty, she can’t slide my palm-atmosphere up my plastic sleeves. I can’t figure out me, yes, yes, you, you can, so, I can cut you? It seems to me you’re still bluffing affection, she says. Her gold fills with Lucifer. She swallowed Zeus today, tomorrow. Sometimes the universe is in a better way if you have any questions.

v. I have a dog to walk, Infrared suicide is everything to me – in a cruel world living in hiding – living in every suicide – in a cruel world – of free dogs I have to climb the wall – I had to live without privacy I'm dying to die with me – turn off the lights the sky fell on me – fell upon me my attackers – dogs and each Suicide – goes another mad dog in the world I have a dog to – walk east – do not leave me but always – the sick sick dog – in a cruel suicide means everyone does not know how to approach I’m almost at the bottom of sinkhole – I found this world to feed the dog to me – the dog just to breathe in this world the fact of the teeth – the nature of the mountain form a foam – speaking of string Sleeping in animal-soup plastic – sleeping cold in the cool I feel bad – I set a dog in the world

vi. Extreme fat destruction Why do you want anal? For the pleasure of my broken left foot? For the media?

The coroner? After death, they even asked me to slide a large stalactite down the cold sweat of my protests. The more I want to own spontaneous combustion, I have no confidence in turbulent trails, only a spray of hot cum on video clips, down the left of pine candles, shortly before his death. He burned in the brain, a fistful of drinks or inhalation to keep diverting some of the knowledge.

vii. Don’t be a .. you know .. you see ..

Sound .. a large, trunk lid He brought .. a rock From .. the dizziness turbine If you .. try to use alpha Feel .. the climbing of her stomach Wonder .. if it’s coming Punch .. a coffin with a shovel Discuss .. what is actual dirt Do not .. forget double magic Control .. this entire weakness

viii. the same as the mood swing Press and the morning should push back, open a sepsis as small as a lake, call the meds ‘subconscious voiceprints’, kill the mold after the squealing idea, you do not want to hold the event, remain the same push hard to push tomorrow, weld to the mental state of my taxi, a destination you can sit in if the area is pushed through the glass momentum of purple candy, press your brain, I live in the middle atmosphere push the push harder to push the wave of ‘I think that killing someone left me with a feeling of zero, of millions.’

ix. omega megalomania The soft hateful suggestions must shave their flocks of sheep in the water of the greenhouse to prepare an arrogant war. They frame in accordance with the rules and regulations. They fire-stroke mania, defeat all black youth, can’t get rid of the foamy dog, can’t quit drawing your teeth white, can’t stop sucking yellow chins of people.

They know what you hate. If you can ever be ready for glass house raids, bounce off the edge.

x. I would be embarrassed, Sky I feel like most rumors were supposed to be about murder.

Not suitable for small ends or to bring a separation of the sea but after a few minutes, I was a young urchin, cry-jumping through sheets of sound and light, the Lord will not hear me popping deep under the bed scene. At least three months of looped Sodom answers my original question. Left only traces of bleach. I do not know them yet, but I have no weapons.

Left without a hope-sausage, November, bridge or a name.

He put all things in subjection under lock and throw it his way.

He put all things in subjection under lock and throw it his way.

I can’t do this. I must be late. I have a mind that has lost the green game.

xi. Crisis and my watch pop - pop - pop - pop why marijuana? pop - pop - pop - pop I fought like crap pop - pop - pop - pop this is our swords pop - pop - pop - pop you live under pop - pop - pop - pop the light of a cliff pop - pop - pop - pop functions such as pop - pop - pop - pop heating oil, father pop - pop - pop - pop mother, brother pop - pop - pop - pop sister on track pop - pop - pop - pop bulldozing pop - pop - pop - pop do not give up pop - pop - pop – pop with no time pop - pop - pop - pop the fall’s high pop - pop - pop - pop your skin is pop - pop - pop - pop

I do not have it pop - pop - pop - pop with me to the pop - pop - pop - pop party of my pop - pop - pop – pop false human bite pop - pop - pop - pop

xii. The third eye filled the two stars from chattering baseball-heaven your fingers two runs in the bottom of the last three letters of the heavens mourn there are all the people during the war shedding black fluorescent carelessness with us all now off the third seed to fill a bass rattle empty star the chemicals dissolve the coral reef stomach cramps early in python on a blind date I can’t explain bother me lip you have a variety of dirty half past three in the morning Ohios stay let fingers be three invisible to the eye lens at the speed of shock of the sky from the dead milk and you do not know a baby post-sleep snakes left this prophet at the same time there was a sign of drain hose mouths running tails at the station playing in the air I all I and editors I

xiii. If we suck dry the wet-slit horizon She is now running, gimp mother, to the light roof of a pyramid wet feathers on the neck of air cat on branches in her mind can’t restore a place in this era of nowhere coated in leprosy-sky She is now running, gimp mother, wrist blood ready, can’t decide on touching canvas dripping effects her coffin a case of technical problems I wear a basket of split in the past in fact I was in slow motion What do you have now, gimp mother? running to sour tomorrow, What do you have now, running?

To the virtual pyramids beneath his neck, wet hair, she rules her breasts, dumb, poor nomadic-theme. Phone the barren pit.

The platinum fools, look at them to see me die.

He looked at me running for cats on fire on branches, I love the girl screaming fucking know me, winking in a vacuum.

This water in a clay basin. Jelly weights are going to the beach to look at me.

Look at all the people watching me, gimp mother, emptying before me and the flood. I’m

showered in artificial exit wounds, where are you running? Please see my unnatural death at the pyramid in his neck and if you die firing his chest, I’ll be inherited in the middle of your chest.

palest venom petals after Death Grips’ ‘Government Plates’

Routine i. Good luck in the dark

Student answers the door.

‘Here’s a condom,’ I say.

‘I will die in the process,’ he says. He invites me in.

I play a drum roll at the door as they begin in the lounge, then move to his room, which has walls covered in masks. Midway through, 87s to be precise, I turn on a kitchen tap – it’s an open plan place - and he asks that I don’t wastewater.

I warm a meal. He asks for a feeder line. I tell him to tell them, ‘I came here to die in the sea.’ He comes.

They don’t. I hear him say sorry, that he’s afraid of sex.

There’s something hysterical and screaming about us.

They step out of the bedroom and drop toxic emerald tablets that they’ve rented. They ask me to leave. In the hallway, I’m arrested for illegal possesion of jellyfish. I have not even started to smell.

Routine ii. Real Steel is a dog from the bay of the yellow sheets

There’s a dog, right, playing music, right, with scabs on its nails, right, a dirty fucking mess, right, blank in one eyeball, right and this pig is forced to lick its foot ulcers, right, and I’m watching, right, I can’t wait for what the brain will realise, right, and I’ve been here for twenty minutes, right, guessing the velocity of this egg I’m holding, right, and I’m yelling, will you help me, right, in this double spiritual ceremony, right, asking for forgiveness, right, and in a small whisper, right, I ended up in a coma.

Routine iii. There is a reason to breathe under the weight of a bed in Asia

We don’t want to worry. Choose life, hell, choose zero. Stop sucking that idol’s cock. Don’t invite that lion to your 5th wedding. Gag your eyes with condom language. Live your lives as white, blank nights.

Routine iv. I was right, I am fine

What do you call a clown, dressed in a weevil coven, that’s written a novel about being made from violence, recently made of violence, that recent violence, once their voice is coiled to engorged?

Routine v. Love the new future

Jesus has everything, dry, sensitive darkness, six warbirds, shit, briars, rabid bass, false children.

No wonder they killed him with bleach, amiright?

Routine vi. This is the wheel

I’ve kicked most of my addictions, except absinthe, thawing eels with my waist, beating it out after the therapist has analysed my habits.

Oh and my life ban on seesaws.

Routine vii. Where we go, goodnight

Remember when I licked the surf despite the lodge sign?

Remember when the denim daemon moaned about the idea of imploding cinemas?

Remember when your neck clinked?

Remember when you said moke instead of make but moke sounds enough like a word to not feel wrong and it was an overtly complicated feeling to experience in company so we just downed more cheeseits?

Remember when we drew a map in the pond with coal?

Remember when the hot, buttered iceman kidnapped that piano and was pickled in dopamine for life?

No? You need to come over more often.

Routine viii. It is more than a great house So, here I have some high-crazy rumors.

If they go too far, I shit phones.

The car does not have a Mac. If you want to view the skull, you have to turn off your carcass with both hands. The sea is a big, stupid house. I can’t say when to lose your shirt is wrong.

The car was Mac. If you want to show the skull a record, lay your hands on a railway.

Routine ix. Let’s take a low, long-term, internal rate of return A pirate reads a map of Hawaii.

Mr Government can’t forget the forest,

because he’s taken a break goosebumps and he’s cut himself to reach the ideal weight. His personal story has been shot into space with the pirate’s real leg.

He looks at his one legged lover, thinks, oh the greasy perils we’ve had. I want to reap your salt until we’re asleep like eagles.

The pirate looks up at him as if he heard, Location? Mr Government asks.

Routine x. Plot hole I need your help, Holotype Thundery Lord!

I’ve drunk too much torpedo-honey and built a pylon in a pothole,

now the traffic’s angry and I can’t lure that horned pony with my odor!

xi. It’s not up to me to bomb the house, like I forgot to ask you, in the oven, or Spirit Machine as you call it, if you were going to steal

what they want? I’m a bit lazy.

the inmate’s agonies, the post-war bathers swim in megatons, mongoose throats atomise, hated gasmen moonshot with atheism and an agent’s stigma towards gismos after Death Grips’ ‘The Powers That B’

i. I exercise a lot and feel shame My mother died in my dreams after I touched my shaman like grass.

I always knew in the case of loss, I would be fluid-punked, a fetish magic.

I do not know where I am so empty.

That must be bad news.

Broadway is a cemetery.

Free terracotta husband or wife if you’re able to blow December off my pants. In the ash, I remember hospitals diseased with chemical romance, I think as a whip, I'm not normal, but when I tell you how I feel, I know at any time I can’t walk.

ii. Meteor-bronzed palms We buried tsunamis in the world of ice, do not tune in to watch TV through the buttons of your shirt, all the wild grass frozen and displayed, your bones have amnesia,

can’t ache to the sight, your palm carved to blindness by a crude oil phantom flatten my wrist, gloss my feet, this knew hand doesn’t know somnambulist stay with me in the horror, why do you want to put it all in your hands?

iii. Quarter growth black not all zogged, White Romeo had the black line on the white, fishing blinks, installed his confidence in his tennis shoes, tube. In water-class, the blonde body layer applications is the blood of my heart

because I have 5 minutes of the wrists, I would like to structure my work shaking from the gimp. Get the following - freedom in the way of comfort, relaxation for all comfort back, a copy of the responses between men and women dressed in long, rich applause. His flooding beard morally ambiguous and limited. He quacks like a good crack, even with the abuse.

I'm white and half in black, white, quarter-crazy.

I will open the door see him in our next life .

iv. It is not good to drive the bus Our weight in the early morning five hundred play dead friends of shelled children I was told children and I am hey hey hey refers to children

hey children from death I will make my people popular if the person is beautiful you can learn from their neck and you know that you are a question tell me at first in the morning say Lord what do you say hey play dead

v. Sad children waste time feeling good In time, we will lose to God. Time will lose to God. I waste time feeling good in my home. God wastes good feeling home. Cum God

is a waste of time. Good time is in the trash. God is in the trash.

Cum God will lose time to God in the trash. I employ dumb children to waste God in the time of feeling good.

vi. Failure to act in panic I have sex wherever first aid is administered. Doom anal doesn’t happen in October.

Move on. The current price of crap escalates in the farm sales. This allows for self-anal

during the summer. I put a fire mouse up my anal gland.

I wear anal clothing; anal film and half shoes. Doubles revenue.

And we want to fuck us stupid.

And we want to fuck us stupid.

Anal sale at the CakeWalk.

Anal doubt at our seĂŠ ance.

It’s as difficult as fighting business.

This is why there is no reason.

vii. So, the cure is to refer to these Shadows are all children, their hands and feet not grey. I can see the shadows of their quotes crack open temples like toolbars. You want me to believe he is my shadow. I'm not ready to get married. Do not talk about medicine.

Look, I was almost in the shadow

of cellophane pool-weapons. All shadows, their feet are speckled. Search your lucky day.

My shadow is happy to clean the fate of carbon monoxide. I'm not talking about helping the costumes here, I’m talking real-life shadows.

Put the gas on a priest. Voila, no marriage and a crisis in your grey, speckled hands.

viii. I found the ionosphere prison They took the silhouettes, taught them confusion.

The dollar is down. Space for all, no dealers.

Placebos are prescribed: second-smell his socks.

A scarecrow’s voice commands dog faeces.

There’s a subwoofer on a Greek ship. It drops

corrective actions to the permastock.

On the catwalk, bears are good Feng Shui among strippers. Godzilla works the night-floor.

Go to the bathroom to get stunned. I do not think rubbing is considered hypocritical.

Hush hush. The fish move. This arrangement was based on the mess of a shoe sale.

Sex is lost. It’s the separation of agoraphobia and a burning sensation in my body.

Fire and the body itself will win.

It will endlessly dive faster than you.

ix. Splitting glass-state In front of the mirror in the valley of the US, I’m in front of the mirror in the valley of the US today, for all practical materials, I think in real life, I can see why I see all, I thought about life, I broke glass in the valley of the US, many stand in front of a mirror in the valley US, this is not my master, put your face in the mirror in the valley of the US and it will break my window, I do not care about the real face in the mirror of a large number splitting United States glass.

x. The aim will be to prepare inanimate things You are welcome in Lady Godiva’s zoo, carry no infections or drug interventions.

It's like a secret, understanding onions.

The last bucket slums my scalp.

I’m more vinyl than storm, immersed in a familiar

Lack of aftertaste ‘Ash Cloud Boa Iconic Mix’ the label said. I’m a prostitute in a dead room selling road to bike shoes. Monkeys smoke their skulls and hide the batteries to the Noah clouds. There was lightning around our old pit, but it was full of dry ice, Satan driving inside out for those anonymous people who came to watch him stop flying out of the fat of my demo tape.

xi. This means that I have a cigarette when I pour to get wet in the world It is still a heart disease and the seventh largest in your drain. Like gods I can’t be like me in animation, I had to hit and not be lost turned off my hearing

I planted the abyss so-called Enlightenment in the glass house windows in all of the blank I am with you when you can’t pass water, red light dawning in your intestines at night in captivity to see what happened.

xii. Shake my voice Trying to punish me, my magic falling to the bottom of my character to sponsor my funeral.

Spilled my lamp, collapsed-me, laughing,

crying strings like a first love false.

xiii. Life is very dangerous and you should plan how your friends finish I urinate on his face. Two fools die in the future.

I was a boy trapped under a cock-safari, we have reliable field trips until we have peace.

In peace time, I piss on his face. If I choose a place to eat in peace, such as a condom, I believe in my car or comedy gold as a hazardous waste bag. If I were in his place, it will go again

and again laid and I’d show you how I bought him with a heart in the chest, to touch it in the parking lot, while I fuck the world to see us lose time.

xiv. Wednesday shopping The town is buried with his sons.

I don’t know what I'm doing in the war. I have the power to make your favourite colour run, because we wore black gloves during the art skills centre talk, but what is happening in hell happens I do not like to waste time.

Fuck a pulp remembering to steal my name. God, dressed in minerals, wears black gloves and we can’t speak.

I went home with figurines of my child rolling in my stomach to hear a miracle.

I find no pathological universe, I’m just holding a microphone, which is actually just a broom, saying ‘you are the light of my strength’ into an empty city.

xv. I feel my life as a man with no eyes We did not respond to the outside.

He said his body was in the branches in a tree in my earlier years, we find a cure, born in the legs, the legs are born again. As they were dying the highest hand showing clouds, dryness, I want to see the mountain of swans because I'm alive and have sex with my pieces of these animals born in the world to sleep

you keep a copy of my surprise With the development of openings I think in increments of damage to play in a mud-absence of acne on nails.

We were completed, hammock-drunk, known as ‘ventilation group’, lotioned.

We are waiting for change, the drying of people.

xvi. Today, I woke up one-third of the drug I hit the sun for a day of ice.

Snowfall awaiting a step in the quick thinking, I slowly pulled my face on the ground outside, absorb the waste to be deposited in the light of the afternoon .

I love the proximity in time to bide my time.

I chatter it stretches like thunderstorms . in my country I am carbon monoxide cold, dew frozen soft ice fog can be frozen, in freezing shone a Sandman in three pure love that I got legless to a lizard-bastard sold my fist in Banana City for dusty dirt.

Sandman can break winter fashion, shoot missiles at Mercury, wave farewell to my concubine coat.

We wake up one third of drugs, a fast-moving maintenance of deep eyes. I never yawn in the face of a centuries-old curse still can’t believe in standing nor trying control the destiny of a crawling worm. Reptiles are the only drug I know of, don’t ask me to slow up the production of bleached animals.

xvii. Lost World Saturday Earth is only one bridge.

I spend too long betting on the phone.

The world fell on me on a music video set.

He pulled the wrong trigger in the dead of the morning in the entrance hall, half-three.

You can feel the desire to be a hell waiting for the snow to death.

Note - the problem is he left me a gun. He liked how quietly I stick to my own plans.

the totemist obsoletism motto: ‘isotopes make blimps in limbopelts’ after Death Grips’ Bottomless Pit

i. a good idea of how bad guys are ten times too low for a good idea for those who cannot adapt to the coughing the powder will sex you to asteroids the evening be the dragon hunter fuck material to make money display of messages O and X I had training in my car we travel as you crescendo past my home town I have to maintain populations of slip-string handling jingles not now press the petty stuff we called Lick our voice was hard just sprinkles within logs my brain’s moving like the other times the bad sound after euphoric vomiting down the slide he does not count over-tombs disturbing the cheap temptation of bacteria put our horses in order to consume the bone of the boundary pack up

this mystery is now jazzy flagged we can no longer fly it

ii. is Namamu the diagonal filter?

I stopped to talk with the head of Steam In Behavior at the warm end of the two hotheads pin on your own head but only in the presence of hell they were not told about bald clippings reductions that form around hair issues its head’s face I’ve known all my life how do you put a new complex of trust when his movement style is natural called New Pirate Motta his scalp infested with hundreds of hooded heads of snakes he took the habit of head of state literally

iii. i run my house I do not forget to slide the ocean to go to my pastor and do not forget I shot my nervous wars between my legs remarked ‘quality deterioration’ of all the people you have 10,000 Brazilians you suck 60 no stability until I lock the sweat of your keyed up clothing because they do not have any possibility to alert magnetic saliva dripping silent movie images of shot-tide a local cut body of a conscious model scattered like a plot of hell needles skating

in the horizontal direction of a pulse BOX I switched on during the conflict over the weight of floors you’re chewing orange my collar my way of Spanish my rubbernecks my ruby crisis my sperm puzzle you can claim the role of carnival enhancer talk about juice tourism but great people freeze empty and I can only survive the tragic end the hazards such as door-dogs, roadkill, with the love of the spirit of my skin and now I dry my last astral boat.

iv. finally lost dehydration Take a fluorescent accent to be toothless drunk in a prolonged bottled thunder record fanatics waiting for the bending effects of sand the fourth shape buckling there, my friend, I wear a hat-rhythm know losses in seven grams of disease it breaks my death lost traffic makes the transmitted light in the form of a laminated picture-noise

perpetuate the name of a flower arrange training for shop thieves all monsters forbidden to leave their homes until they establish good forest etiquette strap humans in vertical diapers fill the silo with ice or copies of my novella about cutting tuna and reduce all those who have lost their way around your navel without logic they’re turned in the temple box praying at the walls with drills meaning demon.

v. that you have a possibility to know it is you In the text interpretation of the dance you are being carried out of five disasters in the voice of the sound day I think you are looking at the Sucking an abundance of good light piss of Messiah covers the trapped dead desperate to move on you I am with him painted in diseases shamed in thick handcuffs I waste the sun mummified in a mask when I dared to hang out with disturbed prisoners for the rest of a medical procedure

they are with me as moons we can say that the victim hanged from his arms but I do not think I lost like the look of surprise.

vi. the forests damaged ivy is buried weak fuck does not respect any wick wick to penetrate the ivy etc. disliked the candles bubbles through the button hole can make me uncomfortable to sleep under my terror Sandman on my legs the things you swallow in the afternoon of the smoke alarm Sandman’s attracted to frozen bubbles

his buried shovels can be heard singing in a jungle outfitters he turned green because he never had a chance to sleep to sex-wick away the sounds

vii. so then, baked menstruation?

I say that this is what she is in the throes of all eyes-flowers our parents have the right to smoke flavoured dog feces in my blood I was happy, I have not had any lazy elixir when you destroyed the wilderness funeral in when we saw beautiful views of what Opals our struggle I will be wise "It's me, I think it is easy because something," that you have not played with the confetti swords photographing still images the next-day-tree.

viii. Tuesday and Wednesday 8th What you discrete is musical sexual intercourse my VCR throne in my flesh the living tradition of Chaotic after a period of arsenic invasive water Bull fear bloated every time you go or get a big gamble with your hair, looked like a cheese race relationship believe what you want to play the first three churches encourage baby lion music used to do it before or after I announced that I was always trying to cut the device or a good reason to have a look at the racing boring we hate the fact that there’s light, I bit my head on the left side of Explosive everyone in the development of slow to Cougar.

ix. check the thermostat levels and drop a coin holder to respect the heat My enemies hit the wall mirror phenomenon shock me to reasons to throw your body stop toxic this speed can be bitten but you cannot spit out the bitter face of dictators at least you can get free dog feces garbage I do not know why the lights do not hesitate to steal my fucking chair I was the subject you knew nothing complicated given to sulking and happiness and poltergeist illnesses to put my mask up Zap him in the stone injuries are not necessary , I do not go very fast to your home,

x. 10:03 - in a good area of the room My dirty hole has not been edited, no plastic and I have three bedrooms desktops and set up a beautiful son Majialita wood-tile future thirty percent mesothelial cells is a party in the past Crystal Ball flows through the pile pool of urine flow of Niagara Fifth, I am a good bar crashing down Fast Man City, nylon-criminal Dallas as the head of my bed a hole through my three bedrooms there is a good neighborhood fire across this part of the ocean cyborg television cancer can stop rabies pregnancy a nylon calf sleeps with a political party in a plastic bed in'll over the bed members of the body bags prime.

xi. 11 Bell South Africans have died and you are the poor who hate me I hate the excesses of friends gummed sons drinking ear-mosquitoes know what you know, but his son was the desert beating six jumps high It grew a potential hole in Cinderella water lap dancing the mosquitoes are known and but Fox also hit the desert and drew

xii. 1280808 mathematical jargon intruders Country Black Mental radio taxi is also known as our mobile laboratory eggs bite pigs feed my pimp is angry with pigeons , crumbs on your rice and a dirty-street you out of the depth of the recent rain and placed me food for teethers, face cream, man, I love the unique touch from Biters I like fashion but the comic on your forehead snake coils the flying doe the main form of violation of key deer doe listening do not mess with my turtle food.

xiii. 13 and the door to the abyss I was on my way to the anus buffet I despise him as soon as you take responsibility for my anus standing on the shoulders of my funeral speech when I refer to half believing that we are all screwed drooling beautiful pools of love-animals you can see the gag fiending sex declare ‘fire, ground’ you can go everywhere to join hammer our throats to ponds poured into this dangerous stick maze that cannot be wit to survive death the evil I saw gag the classic swimming hole.

how i made this the wooden pony project is composed from a range of harvested written material from songs, poems, blog posts, coding logs, reported speech. the content is dictated by the posts i picked, at random. Most of these are taken from bdsm forum chats, sex blogs, drug blogs, loneliness forums, hair loss advice chats, relationship forums, baking disaster forums, tumblr erotica. Others are smashes from songs and poems i love. i carried out some rewriting and heavily focused on sequencing. Most of the initial writing is composed by firing each segment of harvested content through google translate in order to fuck up the grammar and reinterpretations of phrases that only exist in certain languages. i wish i could say i was mathematical about this approach, but i wasn’t, it was more about siphoning the existing content so that it was no longer plagiarism and i had enough broken writing to reshape into pieces that divert from my dominant writing voice. here is a list of example pieces in which i explain their wherecomefrom: the day mint planets did a little fucking is a rewrite of a step by step guide to smoking drugs through a pipe i found on tumblr. this place meant is a rewrite using lines from an array of poems on the theme of ‘displacement’, written by Octavia Poets. pomegranate as boring thunder is a sequence focused on a breakdown of one of my relationships spliced with regulation fire escape instruction manuals and what-not-to-bring-on-aeroplanes guides.

3’s Ultimatum, Get Help is a splice of Subtle’s Minas Gutz and Kim Kardashian/BrAngelina reportage.

No No No is composed from rewrites of Why’s Rubber Traits. we see a loss offshore/the rest of the surviving over the next five years contain rewrites of cLOUDDEAD’s Dead Dogs Two and Kim Addonizio’s First Poem For You. PARTleopardmother is several rewrites of the hostage phone call at the start of At The Drive-In’s Enfilade. logs is a sequence of rewritten coding logs, provided by Joel Auterson. airy latex matrix - the totemist obsoletism motto: ‘isotopes make blimps in limbo-pelts’ are rewrites Death Grips’ albums.

translating the gulch after Bedwyr William’s Exhibition ‘The Gulch’ at The Barbican

I can swim here never get wet unless the fire alarm goes off horizon at my toecaps you could even make the ocean into a climbing frame we wouldn’t look so silly swimming in the open air necks hypnotised common farm song the board members watch like ambient installations fruit falls from a curtain sky replace our faces indicate the soundproofing of outdoors videos become playground kids become bubblegum strafe along shadows still the board members watch uninterested in sentience in tangibility