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By Trout Almondine Date: 2003 Feb 06 Comment on this Work [[2003.02.06.17.27.21977]] |
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The phase of your hallucinations reminds me of those balmy days when the championship mould was breeding, when the fish were long, and so were the valued floats of men we drank through narrow straws... Your sweet voice is like the snap of a bra strap upon a sun burnt back. Sir, you have most exquisite breasts. Most certainly, your fingernails stimulate magnetism in the most organic of solvents! Your Cerebral Hematoma requires me to congratulate you on your ability to compute the Lesbian Integral of a macaroon. Send me your hangnails. With great eagerness I will knit them into divine papal integuments. You move with the eloquence of a fiery wall of disintegrating fuselage. Your eyelids reflect and refract the turgid limnations of an eel trapped in the flickering paralysis of Chaplin's cinematography. "Kanseller din ekstreme hundekjeks innen det virtuelle livmorsfälget eksellerer." Soft sausages would gladly procreate in the bathwater of your verisimilitude. You are more beautiful than a bouquet of fossils. Bleed me! My memory is fried with your pork! Tribes of primitve hunters, with rhinestone codpieces rampant, should build pyramids of Chevy engines covered in butterscotch syrup to exalt the diastolic, ineffable, scintillated and cacophonous salamander of truth which slimes and distracts from each and every orifice of your holy refrigerator, Sears be its brand. You look like someone who has lunched poorly and who has no expectations for dinner. (with a nod to a random surrealist compliment generator) |