Chex Mix With Seawwed And Sesame

account what 've tried, I say no,
make a smear but you lack resources, you are missing hell, I lack courage;
make a new account if you think you're gonna get your way, you go from bad to worse
; ; ; the weather man announces gale what? ; ; ;
; ; ; As I lose my mind, The Madison
you too
still life
duty leaving


J. Miller Malone


ectoplasm could have been a whisper me during paradoxical sleep, I really am an angel and my name Sananda Maitreya. Or see me at the home of Hugh Hefner in his jacuzzi, where Monica Bellucci sodomized with a strap-on to Sofia Vergara while it licks my balls, shaved bare exposed as two quail in the poultry.
But instead, a raccoon with disproportionate ears winks at me and tells me I want to be your Tampax.
I wake up startled and sweaty. Too many strawberries and cream before bed. I get up to pee. Sleeping in a row is somewhat overestimated, scratching the eye with a half smile to know that you still have four hours to get to work is priceless.

Back to bed frames and Sophie xxx Monica will not let me sleep, cock, erect of my life. Camacho and I appear low. Sleep. My boss dressed ridiculously
mobile phone, twenty nails, singing with leering me enchúfame charger, charger enchúfame. Sign Manute Bol with its three legs exposed: Hello, I am Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.
My boss, looking to Cuenca, emits a shrill cry of Manute the first attack, like a child who enjoys practicing medieval on his ass.


mobile alarm sounds.

5 minutes.

sounds again. 6.25 h. The I stretch, now may be a great day.
Of those that do not need to write a poem to pour the rage.