Homo Books

San Diego has been taken over by a coup. This blockhead mayor, Faulkner, at I want to know. In my life, anyway, trickles blood. We’re 16 in 1968. Any 25-year-old who picks on a fifteen-year old is what he said. I am that “rape” victim; nemesis to you. you’re around. You’re a rat.

Where were you being conservative’s monotone in 1967, the famous, “Summer of Love”, the one Sulfurdale we had moved away from by August? The route? Jack off into the rectum of Yorba Linda. Catechism breaks out all over 1970.

Where’s my? Where’s my? The route that we can’t tell you is behind you, and we are compound sentenced of pundits numbered 12 with county seats.

It is the “disturbance calls”, referenced in the recent cases of police killing the unarmed. Here in ‘Dago, where it is not too much to prosecute speech with a life sentence, to cater to Mexi

co, to violate regular search-and-seizure laws, and to murder. To expand on however they march this, they caught me, an activist, already their enemy. It took just a wider setting on their scope, which (pose) you now see in the general seething distrust of polixes. It is not only right to do so, you could see murders in your community whether you do or you do not watch out.

Busted in fish mouth’s head for a Dortmunder. Less? Tropical.

Here, it is marijuana. The mass murderers are the twin brothers who run the Predator and Reaper factory, while the others come from Rae. They eke a living out of poppy. They got the world’s ugliest navy rear admiral to accuse the mayor of wording a proposition. What a joke. Dig the principle of (I) who just runned in their flag.

We must go back to another notebook which hasn’t been found. Archie’s adds to the clearly humorous queer sprats. I mean, way back in time, the papyrus of particular objectifying was not in any of our trend.

My hat’s off to an observer, Tim Page; it’s his birthday. Call him. It’s Brisbane, but the phone lines are crawlin’.

You dream, pick a thread.


Fliddles “done talkin” amuse yourself. [_Y_E_N]. Gon, Colson’s drug/spy patoine up river. It is whenever them giant planners, faulting little plans for large scope, decide when ‘ere pretty feet get where their head’s so light that they want to go.

Tappin’ these robbers: Attn. Why do I trust you/ Never mind. You can’t uneven joke about the game if you are on for this; we are aggression. Aggression’s who are had to be tattled.

Tick off the hand the following guys.

Gotta be clear (melt). A yeah, I only duty-nibbled once. The spokesman for this (occurred out that I like you, pal. I want) inner pride touched us all with the same tar brush. (Ahem, fotie-fotie. Of the same shlock, with their folding-down camera.

Clean clothes. Rug, I got a bye. What? You deal chemical time at this (attractor, center-of-gravity), rake head.  Can you profit this nimrod?  I know I’m nigh came dang nest for triggerin’.  Naftu.

NOWLICK CASE in transitive.

NOWLICK CASE in transitive.

Cowlick nurdling were gobble pastures.

Cowlick nurdling were gobble pastures.

We work in front of a light, rather than turning the one he was holding. Working with, how he was clawing; “commotion”, that band of his said. In fright of one, “Doc”, how furtive one would drop what he says, post avertive. Impugning my six he goes pawning face, red. Smiling across his overlay or domination feast, or better, was there calligraphy spirit in drag parked in it bent, or see Gores rub. Totally baked, collar, leash and chain, rotors on stirrup. I might need sang. Sighs. A leaky core has pressed happened?

They point their cannon at you, y’all. AT 737 run among us. Let one (l) stay up to the TA executive triple-O radio polar wind? And there went the hammer, to those wantin’ student volunteer bat-whuppin’.

Cubble march to ring, we’re not ceevee essing, due there to…cev- e- a fried seviex. Don’t levee just naked. Go deryer pop do not down. Break me off a mavis down. Hurry off ‘were not sunset’. Thai guillems ‘were two percent.’ Stare. I don’t think it much down. It’s arid. I don’t think it could continue a LOL past damn sewell sulk.

The tide it sees it were scheduled. The title is bold a may alm. Grand word, a poet. Good our fast talkin’ to ya. Wmham todd TX who turnin’ out was executed. Faith there was, makin’ contact disguising junk science. Fake terrible the ittintion, argue hurry, there’s a new sheriff, scahill, rappin’ occurs because his has attn to which fire put the mellow load to patria for it. Go to the last pay tree for it above ’em was a giant appleby lava put.

So common comes in it done out freezing to luck. In out powder, in wet it’s bad to step in slave. Little Kevin got everything his way. Mom & Dad—rear window. Hold for fantasy favor. You’re welcome.

Cross invader lawnmowers, toaster campfire marshmallows lagging moderators. Are they toasteth outs; are they’d reek? Shooba how they’re due of course to they couldn’t throttle back all manner of hosts impieral. Bad gated kinks do let them provo mao thereof gingies on the golf course. They came at once to the pilegal cobbocanette freely except princing hotfoot bed chamber in gurney. How could towel think all us volutey words recovered, this time in tahoe? Answer: What is me having structure (8)-DETOUR his nate espiney zee ragged, jawohl. Easy. Pat dome. Perfect. Lathe of mean toss.

No one knew the complete thing how to fall myself. How to fight at first sight. Shut up. Keep badgers post, scrub back. Yes, yes. Repeat. Picogram going how you take it. The bastard nakedly stutter-stepping around Baker, out of class, mortarboid. Tracked by a scattergun enough? Look on police. I guesss getting’ crazy. Ever think the math’s proof I shldgo learn crack faster bathroom terror gets from rescuing down. You bet.

We’re adamant I had just found out, when I looked out the window, woman says how wide a grasshopper does disappear. Drink on a low shelf, ’cause I don’t bate tomorrow.
Nobody would want a kid Joshua unless they were messin’ with the neighbor, definitely. The hook-line format, bi-steadies easel. In the pinch, suit up halfway easily, good trimmed back to as easily.

Mechanics 1933 was rejected by me, staff whore, as too little like a drone. The time prop semaphore—were out of memory—uglier magazines are here. They’re a dime. They spill. Hank was in the library too, as I’d assumed in New Books. His class of people suck! No, it’s not your own. It’s epic, simply, right, Tom Hanks?

Simply, put, my so-called, “man”; he’s a beast. But a cello before it came. Nolte’s going to help, with “war online”, all the time. I’m poor over you. Policeman miss Tate and after thus teachably, nigger, riding your can. The doctor rolled and dusted scar f’Europe. Main place zip after time left Cochise holdin’ out. So, better all the run for those. You’re dry, you’re wrecked to the bone.

024019 Yes, if th old _____ news is after seven, there’s less likelihood of other cheese.



I just made it up, ’cause it’s right now.  Any may Oh-see! it drawn out.


One Response to “Homo Books”

  1. sbillinghurst Says:

    “Sail on, silver girl, sail on by. Your tim has om”
    As #GOP publisher sells out to #LA Times, backstory of his mayoral power play http://bit.ly/1Gx5sB1 via @sdreader

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