big baby
04-02-2014, 02:10 AM
I’m sight-seeing with my kaleidoscope perched onto high ceilings, with a rifle focused. spying on secret agent Koreans smuggling freezing isotopes. I attached a Japanese sighted microscope that lets just the right light exposed, for extra tight, sizing trope with a Palestine cyber clone ready to die at any times moment, hope, the semi primed ‘plosive is a steady climbing motive, if you gently might notice, read the print in fine, quoted “nucleic, high explosive, first step: embed a seventy five coded device of line codecs, thats cleverly designed to decipher digits devised/posted.” IT’s the smelling of white roses, that compels me to mind quotas. I’ll belly dive on a minefield exposed, when I’m ready to die, showbiz. I’ll sixty nine a grenade, and shove it in mouth slowly. You could pin it’s death on me. Then watch Major Colonels’ eyes open. get me my eclectic star of five promotion. My omnipotent godly motive’s coated in a plexi-glass potion, benevolent, half-machete half-skeleton half-molten. Half diamond plated skull forcer. Minds golden. Spent a quarter millennium, high on opium. reading heliograms with Nicephores, eyes closed in. Sleeping eyes open, teeth/canines showing. Saliva pouring out my noggin, And I'm distorted. Contact your prviate sources, to describe this Frankenstein fighter. And according to TMZ's reporting a big baby aborted just kidnapped Kylie Jenner from her Swedish suite. left a generous note etched in pencil: vehemently with corrected typoes "I'm incoherent. If you try scoping me, she'll get porked in her tight hole, make her a circus sideshow just before she dies hoping." Vampyric pine omen. A 6 second snippet live, posing for a Vine holding a figurine of your Doppelgänger with smidgens of a smile sewed in. In Medellin, Colombia, playing football with guerrillas in black. Took a helicopter to Venezuela and back. I'm a Giant wide receiving Penelope's cruz, I'm a victor at that. No cerebellum intact. Salmonella and staph get sick just thinking they have to spread through big babys cellular tract. Mapping my way through an underground cellar, is rad, in a zone full of dead clout, poking my head out from underneath like celery or Princess Peachs radish's patch. Emphatic, it's callous & facts. I'm supposed to be dead I could feed a salad to an army faction with my salary cap. The coast is clear up ahead, digest a human corpse with this overdeveloped intestinal path. Such a sentimental woe, Don't forget in the past, the regrettable portion of you and a dude getting blown with that mess of your head in my lap. Bye woeman.