Sixty nine of the things that I thought I've posted here, there's a million more hidden inside, I swear their all there; This here's sixty plus eleven minus one, I got the jiggety jag an I'm gonna go and get some. I got emotto's spewing out faster than you drink clamatos, clam juice inside a sweaty running shoe to chase the dellotto's, I'm running through thoughts not meant to be thought but got that way when I think that I thought until I got to that place that I'm not, currently coherently, that's the spot.
Proverbs procedurally procrastinating everything, ideals to go by when swinging things from on the ring. The rude uddle mukka with his face all munukkah, got them things that got suckas fluitiantly efficient with their brains all befuddled and their eyes seem proficiently expressant of their dormant situation that's expired whilst their facsimile is no more, as it has currently been fired. So they couldn't say they were coming, but they could probably have called, and they didn't, cause they wouldn't, so you kicked them in their balls.
Riddled excursion depicted conversion immensely at the expense of the detection from the Persian or Parisian or pagotta hidden deep beneath iotas which are especially encased in case of perdition, or an unexpected encounter with Ray Liotta a midst aloft in Dakota. North or South doesn't matter they ain't never ever gonna show ya.
This is what's hot, me. This is what's not, juice. Likeable is a term I'd throw out just to get loose; Lost the loser, luckily he left, as the kitchen and the counter turned murky from his heft. Hasta le viesta is a term no longer been heard unless playing mad libs, or being frisky witch your words. Boston Bruins beat Baltimore six to seven in the fourth. Who cares who beat who, or when they did, or what ever was the score.
I care if potatoes and tomatoes are produced in outer space, I mind if my meat is cloned or grown in a lab cause that's more and more the case. Petri dishes cost more now than ever before because the place that produced them opened up their own store.
Clovers all over on nature's own floor, but soon it's be synthetic clovers all over the laboratory door, as science plays jihad on nature's creations. Expect to be covered in clothing grown from skin on your birthday in the future, for a thousand million billion more there's a way we can clone ya.
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