W H O L L Y T E X T S

 

charles bronson is blood in god's ear

I FED SATAN THIS MORNING AND FROZE THE WATERS IN THE PARALYSIS CHAMBER, for the birds I sit in morning glories of power cords, moody and bright! The alien blurrs the template, a nerve twitch in the Reality Firefight. The old cat needs the litter changed. PRAISE BE TO GOD! IT'S DIRT WITH DINOSAURS! YIP!

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