Tuesday, April 19, 2005
who the fuck
so evidently someone already has orphanos; that's okay, i thought of a sweet new word, meta-reality; never ind i was dead at the time. is this thing on? my fingers are itchy, my ass is scratchy, like wool.
you got'ny fingers in that bag, randolph?
able, and a cane, walking tall, like an old man on viagra.
more pissants in my tea, now i'm running out of frosting and ideas, so
i can't stay conscious for long; canticle article, descending,
yellow journalism and an artifical hip
opiode, the menagerie.
you got'ny fingers in that bag, randolph?
able, and a cane, walking tall, like an old man on viagra.
more pissants in my tea, now i'm running out of frosting and ideas, so
i can't stay conscious for long; canticle article, descending,
yellow journalism and an artifical hip
opiode, the menagerie.
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