2 Folds
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Dykeson's own sexual-identity. He wanted them both, and both of them he shall have. He'd always coveted his transvestite, swinger, pistol in pussy fetish fantasies. Until now dope -
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new pair of Rayban Aviator's, a prerequisite for his self-esteem. Playing drums made him feel powerful and profound. He was more comfortable expressing emotions via sound, not word
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Lindsey erupted into a laughter frenzy after witnessing her friend, Molly, crash and burn on the go-ped while attempting to impress with "stealth" and swift moves. What a wipe out
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The thing that really give's me a mind fuck in this scenario... is that time bombs were employed by this business as a means of social control and seemed exempt from the axiomatic
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One night around Thanksgiving, feeling randy and loving life, we removed a motorized shopping cart from schnucks and rode it home. We had plans to Bling it out & painted it Gold.
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On a random summer day back in high school; my best friend and I inserted the keys into my dad's John Deere Riding Lawnmower and chugged the lil' tractor onto the road into traffic
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to one of many Bush family estates where willful ignorance and egocentric agendas were highly lauded as christian-like coping mechanisms. It was the famous crossroads of lunacy an
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he was incapable of understanding while not able to see her mouth. (He was totally deaf since the accident). He was just realizing that he had been raped by this ranting wench
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that the cruise ship was long gone. Little Toot began frantically tugging around in circles for lack of a better plan. Although he was a sage of sorts among the Tugboat community,
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Beaver one, beaver all; Let's all do the beaver crawl. Beaver two, beaver three; let's all climb the beaver tree. Beaver four, beaver five; let's all do the beaver jive. Beaver s
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he looked around. Suddenly, he blurted out that the technology used to create the transparent aluminum had been stolen by some half-witted, earth-bound humans from the future.
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I mean, for fucks sake - I practically invented the word, 'Hipster'. You should be finding my name next to it in Merriam-Webster's. I had skinny jeans tattooed on when I was five
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for the 17th year in a row. It was that goddamned Beverly Cleary book that kept throwing her for a real loop. But she had to get through it again. The irony here is that she was
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Also wine corks and men's undergarments. Such impedements often leave me feeling alone and frightened which subsequently, murders balance and flow. But, there is always my trusty
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My coffee was ex-scrumptious. My lips were ex-vibrant and my feet were ex-grounded. My time was fleeting as I was just existing inside of it like. I felt like a whittled prisoner
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Good friends, cheap wine. Knowing I'm leaving all the while
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Slippery bells with crimson waves make wanton smells in damp, dark caves. Pinch th pony, love is light not matrimony
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So - this tuesday, about two years ago, was just a day that ran late. My coffee was ex-
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Sweltering, suffo ating, slimy suffering. Melting and roasting and charring every scrap of my dying energy and drips, MOLTEN HOT floods the corners of my eyes, ferociously fucked
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we just get off on the fact that we can do anything we want to you in order to force your compliance and impose terror. See there, uh, ET - we don't take to kindly to your kind 'ro