what goes up must come down.
I don't mind my captivity, but the pelt and habitat description next to the cage is a bit distasteful.
punk rock opera. THE STORY
his name is forest and he is the one who puts calcium in the tab soft drinks. and his followers wave their arms in unison with his. clenching crimping irons and mascara (black), "we must make the woods pretty again", shouted the steam engine inventor. yes but what about the piles of masses? the heaping mounds of sponge, sevored pore, and taste bud chunks. nervously bitten and spat out of the mouth from the chiwawa head, johnny mathis monster? asked chowder.)it is sucking dry all the resin from the bong water river. i say we destroy the filter walls! (shouted helium boy.) and then (fucking bull) spoke... he spat dark brown bubbling snoose from the dried veins of new age belivers. it soaked into the ground instantly which reminded him that the woods are in greater need of emergency than he thought. he said "look my friends, spit and see the quickness of the soil." and as all 5 beings spat and observed, tony defranco crabs surfaced and gobbled what little moisture they could before being stepped on and crushed and quickly consumed by our heros. the feast was celebrated with an offering of fresh squeezed grease pockets of spam and pepperoni chunks filled to the rim of an ancient 1990's teenage unwanted baby skull. but this does not explain our misfortune grunted butt chowder. please, please tell us more fucking bull and so fucking bull spoke again. it was in my vision that i saw stoners destroy a church with no roof and only 3 walls. and there were candles, many candles and the virgin mary hooked thru her back on a meat hook, and one of the male stoners said "dude hooker headers!" then stopped dead in his tracks with his hand just softly touching her firm breast and noticed how painfully beautiful she was, how pure, and white, how peaceful wrapped in chicken and barbed wire with not yet finished anarchy sign spray painted on her robe. then his head turned slowly to his mates, and a trickle of teardrop rolled down his ugly fucking zitted out face and cried : "this is wrong! we must stop this!" and so one of the girl stoners kind of put all her weight on one foot and stuck her acid wash ass out, took a big drag off of a lucky strike cigarette, gave a very cool blank/stoned expression under those heavily eyeshadowed (blue) thicker than snot lashed eyes, exhaled and in a groggy dry wheazing, charred lung voice said, "so what were bored". and the others immediately ran around screaming. wooo hooo (in that tone of voice that says "i'm very drunk, excited and a total idiot!") they smashed and burned and sprayed black flag as weel as dokken and whitesnake. then guess what? asked fucking bull, what? what happened shit butt chowder? fucking bull said : after a while they became bored with vandalizing the church and went away to buy a gram. so i suggest we all just connect our vitals to this ancient cow milking hookah and relax, because the river will never dry up for it is fed by the mountains which will always be addicted to boredom.
THE END
punk rock opera. THE STORY
his name is forest and he is the one who puts calcium in the tab soft drinks. and his followers wave their arms in unison with his. clenching crimping irons and mascara (black), "we must make the woods pretty again", shouted the steam engine inventor. yes but what about the piles of masses? the heaping mounds of sponge, sevored pore, and taste bud chunks. nervously bitten and spat out of the mouth from the chiwawa head, johnny mathis monster? asked chowder.)it is sucking dry all the resin from the bong water river. i say we destroy the filter walls! (shouted helium boy.) and then (fucking bull) spoke... he spat dark brown bubbling snoose from the dried veins of new age belivers. it soaked into the ground instantly which reminded him that the woods are in greater need of emergency than he thought. he said "look my friends, spit and see the quickness of the soil." and as all 5 beings spat and observed, tony defranco crabs surfaced and gobbled what little moisture they could before being stepped on and crushed and quickly consumed by our heros. the feast was celebrated with an offering of fresh squeezed grease pockets of spam and pepperoni chunks filled to the rim of an ancient 1990's teenage unwanted baby skull. but this does not explain our misfortune grunted butt chowder. please, please tell us more fucking bull and so fucking bull spoke again. it was in my vision that i saw stoners destroy a church with no roof and only 3 walls. and there were candles, many candles and the virgin mary hooked thru her back on a meat hook, and one of the male stoners said "dude hooker headers!" then stopped dead in his tracks with his hand just softly touching her firm breast and noticed how painfully beautiful she was, how pure, and white, how peaceful wrapped in chicken and barbed wire with not yet finished anarchy sign spray painted on her robe. then his head turned slowly to his mates, and a trickle of teardrop rolled down his ugly fucking zitted out face and cried : "this is wrong! we must stop this!" and so one of the girl stoners kind of put all her weight on one foot and stuck her acid wash ass out, took a big drag off of a lucky strike cigarette, gave a very cool blank/stoned expression under those heavily eyeshadowed (blue) thicker than snot lashed eyes, exhaled and in a groggy dry wheazing, charred lung voice said, "so what were bored". and the others immediately ran around screaming. wooo hooo (in that tone of voice that says "i'm very drunk, excited and a total idiot!") they smashed and burned and sprayed black flag as weel as dokken and whitesnake. then guess what? asked fucking bull, what? what happened shit butt chowder? fucking bull said : after a while they became bored with vandalizing the church and went away to buy a gram. so i suggest we all just connect our vitals to this ancient cow milking hookah and relax, because the river will never dry up for it is fed by the mountains which will always be addicted to boredom.
THE END