Extract the extraneous, beef up the innocent, that's what I say.
Broth.
Hike up those trousers, young man. You're about to endure a long hard day of slumping into the whale and guarding the chamber.
[creations crumble, clifford slits the waif.]
Grow your own angst.
Grow your own sloping hillside.
Grow your own sloping hillside.
Wheezing buses slink down starry night streets, lamps illuminating little grassy hills and earthy mounds. *livin wit a starbox chief chef*
To be honest with you, Billiam, sometimes I just want to be encased in a red velvet casket and launched into space.
The chief chef.
I corrected that coral, so that way it wouldn't have turned the turnstile, and I waged war against the trickling feet. I poked his eyes out with a stick and drove the nail into a pocket book. She keyed him in the heart and tested the ground for live bait, weaving the tusks into the leathery rusty particle sandal. Behave yourself, I honestly just bereaved a coral reef. I gleaned a tortilla from your flabby background. My uncle shaved off your trailer tattoo.
A pile of frail piglets.
I have broken this trailer hinge, and I'm upset about it.
Help yourself to these barbed wire shit cakes, and, if you're feeling up to it, these assorted gnarled root veggies.
Joseph buried me, and I baked his face into the cracked linoleum.
My brother is a pancreas.
I swallowed a necktie. Oh dear gosh!
Mopey Meadows: Apartments For People Who Mope In Meadows.
Mopey Meadows: A film about moping in meadows.
Meadows: a film brought to you by meadows.
Meadows: a film.
James removes his turtleneck slowly and carefully, being especially mindful of the neck part.
I wrapped a wreath yesterday. Fuck yeah, I'm king.
Sheaths of suave rhododendron paste.
Miraculous Martha.
The end.
The end.
