For Company You’re Special

That’s the last compression of intelligence (hymlic), I am Noren her.

crannies a moonlet might good fool us

Saturn crooks n’


D Eleven put one (did you ever put one?) Saturn crooks n’ crannies a moonlet might good fool us



copied, yielded

S-so, the internal game of critical mass is explored from the atomic level.  How fruitful.  Maybe could the run of cast

Check.  This is the “inordinate” depth of a scene, but one with a queenie, a puff of reality.  Okay, the mint observation is that no instrument may record what you symbolize from a scene, sure, but lasers could not employ the power, won’t do to scan deep space where we are sitting, were it even there, open and penetrable like I am one to save.



Now we are back in time.  We needed tachyon practice, to following no light with the eyes, memorizing certain stock moves of the lights, because water lies where they will approach, hope I can drop in view buzzard.

Premise?  Forsooth.  Poor Sueth.  Jebang Cherokee in prostitute.  -Z

Notables walk with an erection-transform R “an” an·gel
back to an angle.  “ANGLE”.  Are none of these hard?  In having to make only one one-thousandth part of the product in one tart part of tout.  Sure, on-time delivery of hell or high water.  Don’t get over it, a thousand times easier.  Now we pump your met addiction.  For, in a scene as explained, the addicting suffocant, stretch of the P, is heady and abstract.  Personal, but putting down non-nudist.  Amen out loud.
Tom Petty entertaining on Birthday Island.  I hope I have a walk …I have to give you my the don’tstest don’t.  Drink to lighter diversions.  Beta ss fuck.  To the neckle augh.  The last 2  4 lines of “rwe”, Registered Work Experience, from “I Used Is Lured”, to Z, I fear.

GLEC…………………………………….., plausp?

Le “c”.  There is a boulder on it.  There are no unaffiliated characters.  A map with the legend of where each sun-it Saturn crooks ‘n-found it.  Good if you can fool us powerfully with a knife cast and crypto on kniver knives go.  A pine bat, a twinkle, Redford telegraphs more of his nose.  The amplitude of the scene, 40% trunkshot.  Ain’t a…cool off.

A·R ,T·H, no#s, _  , broken Oxford.


Bob Seger.  Don't brush him off.  So. BAND I gone to tell you  Goodbye TELL ME WHAT Goodbye TO SAY NDN, I read about unindian  Mama don't go

Bob Seger in a coat- don’t brush him off. So. BAND I gone to tell you
Goodbye TO SAY NDN, I read about unindian.
Mama don’t go.

shit blowing I hate you satiny cintrails.  I hate you with a hot dispatch’s

rest room?  [sommer out there]  I’m trying to douche, Ampire.

-Dale  summand.  Friday’s ample two, its 2  4  MA’

You want to suit a red spade.  You are Turvey 235 (TRV) .  235  · phi I’m argue some odd 92-proton, 91, 90-stone.  This looks like only one of you sieve.  Is the one busting out the one parallelling the skin… defeat twinned choices and enter World Two.  Avast, Dark Net.  Flies, happy and shiny and who ordered the Pupu platter, platform, pull the mistake…accepted.

One atom does all the random work of a bomb.

No clear sound.  732 11D1 it is torn loose unravelled.  I count no words per column.  The whole human race dot-dot is a three-letter word, or do you count four?  Now, where the aliens “inner secede”, their infinitessimals getting smaller with no remorse, one intercedes, and then the change of a sound to bring it out of a scene is acknowledged as the repository, so we contract to the bridge (today, GG Bridge ém) of that 6, the whole other Oxford.  This is the shame of a curve plinking away from a circle’s centroid.  Vacuum is dust.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, this in sybite twice, the black re-tainers dyed red work downhills.  Jammy style shorts.  A quarter taller.  Gabbing, tongue flying, spitt…

married woman rescues issues of piss
stain on dress. The woman’s hose although poinying
left straightens
out to pour right.

Anywhere left clear except for the darnit

succeeding circuits

red item for identification

Steam boilers are this small re-aquisition if left unchecked, povricito, whoops, &c.  When they are going home from work at 5óçlock, you are mellow in your prisoner transport diesel pusher bangin’that stereo, windows blacked-out, when just this afternoon at 1:00 oclock, into Ludicris?  You thought went the way of a pretext does the second pass, to do you harm.  To commit mur dur of piss, come on, angel.

4 Responses to “For Company You’re Special”

  1. sbillinghurst Says:

    TROUBLE IN MY WAY Foghat. What if the singular were important, then the loose red capped pipe I lost, signifying the ample time to be undone-that is, a pipe is just a game, and cleaner for the community underrcurrent-I am on current. This is how the Strieker Cork County divide began, with conquer float-ripping at jewelled un-gray embalmed young women. Newsday leads back thru KIWIK &c. one one da da hoppn one duere dure durette derrietier, does not fly. They sell that which is good. Please know that the perfectly good goods are to defense.

  2. sbillinghurst Says:

    “There’s quantity in everything”. The appel tivmo. Concessions to the bard of Jack FM. My ordering of letters comes separate to his. I use them all. Y all still has a question, and de-dimpled on me as a word, exactly HOS PIT AL. Why even have enemies at all, or why cut them into fives? If you could tic them before they ran through the pea-separator, ell, let me URN IT. Fives aren’t hard to add jutting out. They d o n o t spearhead. They are face-centered.

    i. Love L&V first, if you want to love me*, ii. I hold you ransom to the next name I give you. So, answering to it is… lick it. iii. Wish for that which you wish to be true the most. This time names _ _ _ _ “X”, who is doing the naming. They’re not one of the two responsitive to the act of naming. That’s one new name, taking you over when it’s called, and pre-requisites to coast with it. A quantification. Lug it. I may wish to tic 29, 31, 37, and 41.

    That explains why to have enemies at all, though. But, it is you I love, too. I am not whoever buys your car. I get a military discount and I raise one phony (me) ya called a groom a pussy.

    Adapt an hour to…(infinitive).
    * substance, me. Quick, LOL.

  3. sbillinghurst Says:

    AIRQAHNKEMR…….Vote. I’m a freethinker.

  4. sbillinghurst Says:

    I did not do it. I was not he who ran downstairs in socks. I was intemptible towards this, and, had I Mexico done various untempting things in pajamas stripping upcycled 1981 and 1985, here whence gesturing to a wall you accidently drop a picture of your mother. Stripping-down downcycling what my mother practically gleams getting packages to me through La Juda.

    Having heaven at my fingertips, I can offer the advice that a petty bone stuck in my craw, CRAW! — will Maxine in a second. It only causes us to regress, and we are a cloud of electronic awareness, because of the time of day. You don’t change. Any wrinkles in your soul after awakening, including any little turndowns around the mouth, you’re all right.

    It’s just a thought. I do not have them alerting me. They have a ponderous responsiblity which needs to miss me. Once I see a thought copying, it dies. Then, right now is justified outside. It can not produce speech over ours.

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