An Attempt At A True Stream of Consciousness By A Person Who Can Actually Type Faster Than He Thinks

I’m not your father or your mother, I am neither your wand of dreams. I am clicking the roof of your mouth and if you want a herbivore you’re barking up the wrong face. If your mom loves candy than fuck I don’t know. In the marxism of your house there is none too kind as your simpleton. Live and let die if you want a cracker, Polly, but don’t come crying when you broke it you bought it. If a love gets butterfly let it go man. Besides, rain pissed merrily on everyone in like. Specials are 23 and the necessity of invention. Lint is incredible. Marinades are especially fruity this time of year. Lycanthropy is missed primarily by George. Sand of tunes kill my pow. Misanthropes are liked medals. If can vents had warnings just don’t care. Simple gone. 98 is the amount of blue in the wall.

Victory is the rope on your headware. Link golf is 3 by varicose Englishmen. If Candide is your calling you’re not in love. Bleed blue like dolls in the hairnet. Pants love buckets but scotch is aware. Questions of glove are separated at birth. Sempre sebubi. Transvestites are closed. Plantains are plinths. If your nose bites you tear it off. Secondary strings are silly. Spend a dime on your drugs if Harold wills it. Ignore this advice for God has been thinking.

Tags: ari collins, hair loss, i forgot to tag this originally, lint, stream of consciousness