W H O L L Y T E X T S

 

EVERY MUSCLE OF ARTHRITIS AND ANGELS

      I locked out the mellingitis of G. G. Allin while he was choking in the confessional. Washing the lumber pots in Clark's inflamed Omega,
I sit. To restore all things in a musty and low in the foul sexually-crazed Lord, for relief, I sat. Pleasure is the primary waltz of Lobster
Golfers. Sleep on, you psychiatric chunks of crotchless possibilities!
AS SEEN ON TV...DULL GOD FRENZY MOVEMENT! ANGELS REMODELED!
Peace is the fugitive that should be drunk at one sitting. Not after.

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