The Infinite Nonchalance: Difference between revisions
imported>~Boggy B~ (Forgive me for my archaeological chivalry of institutions.) |
imported>~Boggy B~ (Crumbling into nonexistence, the fascinations of sorrow are no longer a valid display of generations.) |
||
| Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
Amid the consensus of my flying chicken sepia, my cock-a-flare has skyrocketed into the vast depths. Straightforward into the elephant ocean, my doll of fire hose has encountered a mighty opponent, two sticks of opportunity. As I winced up into the star shed, the juxtaposition of this ham dale was immediately imperative of soaking towards gargantuan spaghetti hounds. The beauty of all flashed ear-links was utterly inexplicable, yet the love lives on to hate, and the scarf of the kangaroo had been diminished by all that is spiked, and into the great purple stripe of fearful bliss. Instead of the skeletal consequences in sequence to this blue monograph, the words of eyes have been severed into the leagues of cram, and slumbered into its deathly voyage. The exceptional bubble, however, was granted with the intriguing power of reality, and instead, was handicapped into unfathomable oblivion. This cannot be untrue however, as the fabric of an antenna is not willing to rant, but instead, pierce the snow with its knowledge of jealousy. While the remains are still currently giraffe, the elderly begin to weep at its presence, and the fumes of agony begin to rot into the glass of retribution, which can be considered a turn of tables, a match of painted duels. The value of this corrupt inconclusiveness is an absolute regime of dismay, and may require a pizza of blessings in order to brush the ignition of shadows. Humanity may have learned to dwell, but may never withdraw among the pectoral shuttle. |
[[File:The_Dilemma_of_Superior_Anagrams.jpg|thumb|236px|Constantly retaliating with insufficient monoxide, the superficial ramble of dedications were inspired into remnants of curtaining.]]Amid the consensus of my flying chicken sepia, my cock-a-flare has skyrocketed into the vast depths. Straightforward into the elephant ocean, my doll of fire hose has encountered a mighty opponent, two sticks of opportunity. As I winced up into the star shed, the juxtaposition of this ham dale was immediately imperative of soaking towards gargantuan spaghetti hounds. The beauty of all flashed ear-links was utterly inexplicable, yet the love lives on to hate, and the scarf of the kangaroo had been diminished by all that is spiked, and into the great purple stripe of fearful bliss. Instead of the skeletal consequences in sequence to this blue monograph, the words of eyes have been severed into the leagues of cram, and slumbered into its deathly voyage. The exceptional bubble, however, was granted with the intriguing power of reality, and instead, was handicapped into unfathomable oblivion. This cannot be untrue however, as the fabric of an antenna is not willing to rant, but instead, pierce the snow with its knowledge of jealousy. While the remains are still currently giraffe, the elderly begin to weep at its presence, and the fumes of agony begin to rot into the glass of retribution, which can be considered a turn of tables, a match of painted duels. The value of this corrupt inconclusiveness is an absolute regime of dismay, and may require a pizza of blessings in order to brush the ignition of shadows. Humanity may have learned to dwell, but may never withdraw among the pectoral shuttle. |
||
[[Category:Retards Attempting Poetry]] |
[[Category:Retards Attempting Poetry]] |
||
[[Category:WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT]] |
[[Category:WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT]] |
||
Revision as of 16:35, 20 February 2015
Amid the consensus of my flying chicken sepia, my cock-a-flare has skyrocketed into the vast depths. Straightforward into the elephant ocean, my doll of fire hose has encountered a mighty opponent, two sticks of opportunity. As I winced up into the star shed, the juxtaposition of this ham dale was immediately imperative of soaking towards gargantuan spaghetti hounds. The beauty of all flashed ear-links was utterly inexplicable, yet the love lives on to hate, and the scarf of the kangaroo had been diminished by all that is spiked, and into the great purple stripe of fearful bliss. Instead of the skeletal consequences in sequence to this blue monograph, the words of eyes have been severed into the leagues of cram, and slumbered into its deathly voyage. The exceptional bubble, however, was granted with the intriguing power of reality, and instead, was handicapped into unfathomable oblivion. This cannot be untrue however, as the fabric of an antenna is not willing to rant, but instead, pierce the snow with its knowledge of jealousy. While the remains are still currently giraffe, the elderly begin to weep at its presence, and the fumes of agony begin to rot into the glass of retribution, which can be considered a turn of tables, a match of painted duels. The value of this corrupt inconclusiveness is an absolute regime of dismay, and may require a pizza of blessings in order to brush the ignition of shadows. Humanity may have learned to dwell, but may never withdraw among the pectoral shuttle.
