"A fox will not shit in the back seat of your bitch's jeep!" He bled and bled out of that noose bruise long after we cut him down. A bird flew into a bowl of Jello.
"You know what they say: it's like eating an orange in a blizzard." We dipped candles in the nude like Adam and Eve. You have no idea what my candle-dipping kit has seen.
"C'mon, trim your pussy hairs at the party -- I want to hear you say something dirty to a doctor or general." Tonight, the walls have beers.
"Take off that ketchup moustache and that big train conductor's hat -- I have a job for you, Warrior." Warrior's leotard was sewn from spiderwebs, his ax molded from a beautiful kind of golden-y metal. Like a supermetal.
Killed in a baseball diamond, his sash was never found. Tracy, his sister, cried tears on hamburger patties at "Big House", Akron's notorious party house. Every tear returned intact was worth a 50 cent donation to the Beautiful Nurse/Private Dick organization.
Friday, November 14, 2008
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