Friday, February 24, 2017

Not much . Greet the spectre and siphon the sylph. Melbourne spit-wack gag-back, righteous real folk
dab on a light beige swathe. Trumpers humpers told me to do it.
Talc, son, talc. It sits on like a layer of skin. Its a bigot.
Now, timing in dick-off projections equals a specialist hacker-pud ; I am a human after all and it dosent really matter what is puked onto the web because no-one actualy is reading this.
Its love making, see, kinda gross. All micro-movements and swivels.
Bang on. So sliver it, yoghurt.
Bought a radio scanner and am now listening to this new fangled 'AM' radio, receiving a lot of data from news outlets like bbc world and abc new radio. There's talk of a tax-back-pack and witch-craft operations in lower Preston.
Myrtle blue lined it.
Sag, switch and bait. No actual person there, just a beltch of rear-ended photons backing up into your rods and cones, I'm a walking piece o' brain, a Richard.
Or is that 'dick'? People call me dick all the time.
Spit all you want,  oh righteous public.
Y' shuffle past and receive a shudder.  A
maelstrom of propagating photons reflecting into your primitive back-brain, poisoning your oh so pious space with my heretical being. Some gag, others vomit, some ejaculate curses and frowns.
Oliver sees through you all. Make grade
righteous and the real of this land. Holier than thou, holier than I.
I am one of the anomalous types in the 21st century, someone who reads books. Someone who won't accept your reality. Someone from another dimension altogether, a shapeshifter, a sylph.  I am your devil. I am the personification of wrongness. I see through you all.
Shudder, spit and vomit. Excrete those photons as quickly as you can before you are poisoned. I will not go anywhere, I cannot be deleted and never will.
Brisket personified, its a corseted world we live in, a complex wag of ethnicities.
Its a battle for iron ore. Theres a steam ship up my port and its loaded with Iron ore , sapphires and semiconductors. we trade and brigade. we carve up territory like Edwardian Brits on stimulants.
Lower-east side Rothschild neuron-bank sector I should say, its up for repurposing , refurnishing and a good -old body mod. I would invest wisely, but I'm I don't allow myself the luxury of handling cash.

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