great! and remember, the owls are not what they seem!

ten.

policia! Brew-ha-dia! figured.

do you think that by mentioning famous painters inbetween odd daily functions and mixing that with different rooms in a house you come across as being well traveled and knowing? you are painfully wrong.

"to music that cannot exist" is the only worth while quote in i would suggest making "Our four sets of bodies dancing about, hands tapping on the steering wheel and seats. Bobbing our heads, to music that cannot exist." the whole poem, but that's impossible isn't it cuz that would just ruin your point now wouldn't it. "press alt 4" what the fuck does that mean? oh wait...wait...i..almost..oh ha1ha!ha! NO.

ha ha ha that was amazing..i give this fucking train wreck a five and it's #1 now. only in america..ha! ha! WWWWWWOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

people are strange, submissive dominant sex is the rave of the future, because it was the rave of the past. tension builds and creates. where's the backstory here? gone. leaving the reader with an empty space to fill using their own imaginations. that can be good and bad que no. a good spanking and dinner on the floor does loads for a struggling relationship..well, much more than an overpaid JEW shrink none the less. nice poem.

Noooooooooooooo! what has happened to the splinter..god no..the nutmeggy scents have congereed the bog woiden sphinkter. i'm listening to beck's midnite vultures what you doing? putting the restof your cat doors in? "state<b>???</b>" that's pretty realy god damn pretty man good job.

ha ha you are just a kid. i'm sorry..ha. i don't mean to laugh, but i thought you were pretending and you were actually an old man with heavy eyelids, but then i went to your picture, and well found out..so i appologize for turning your friend's poem and your posting into a three ring circus..sometimes in the heat of the moment i lose myself..well that said i'm off there are others out their not so blond, young and floridian waiting for the russian witch to bring her hut and oven. enjoy your stars and boyfriends. it's all extra-ordinarilly innocent and honest, and huh wholesome. goodbye. goodluck.

but why did you kill sweet baby jesus, and then tell us it was all just theatre, but why? why. for the future, for hitler, for diamonds, for prayers that fall into the cracks of screaming walls a city on a city on a city, built by masons! masons! unite it's time again for the arayan uprising the rise of new ATLANTIS RISE RISE! WE WILL STUDY THE BLOOD LINES WE TOO WILL BE, PSYCHIC (MORE THAN THE HOTLINE EVEN) PURE LIKE THE JEW (EVEN SEPHARTIC ONES), TALL STRONG, LEARNED IN THE WAYS OF THE UMMM...LEARNED, AND BEST OF ALL LIED TO ON A DISPICAble level DAILY. level 11. every channel, every paper, every movie. jew. have an eight.

this is definitely strange, and makes me want to add a "comments from the author" section so folks can get what you're trying to say and give better feedback. I really like the "plot" of this piece, and I like the device of interpersing dialog. Some of the images are a bit obscure for me to get, though it can be argued that that's a desirable thing.

meow. 0.

very, very, clever.inventive, amusing. it left me smiling, but still in truth..i hate you. very much..every fiber of your midget with a bum leg demeanor..may your finger nails explode, and your tonsils grow back unevenly.

trainspotting without the train, you wouldn't know methadone from robitussin on a good day, but it must amuse you to see your family and friends so hooked. have no fear i'm sure your addicted to more...proper afflictions, that pale in comparisson such as shopping for shoes and razor slicing your thighs with iodine win the pain gets to be so much..ha, the strain of an overdue test or paper, a blow dryer on the fritz. clever indeed. you make me sick, have a ten, naw a nine. cuz you left out gay/uhhum hum sex with transvestites who have hiv and mainlining methamphetamine, habits, habits Ba-. cheers!

But, what does he become after he's drowned..a boogie board for another one. dude. sweet.

jesus christ.change sodomizer? to sodomite..and hollywood to Bethlehem, because well Bethlehem is..still, just Bethlehem except when the sumarians were there than it was cthulehem. also, "In my subconscious of blasphemy," are you stoned? "The Dove attacked me in a dream,". ha ha ha....priceless. ha ha ha. And Bethlehem is Hollywood, with a protestant cross on it. see the problem with this is it's false.it's 40% scientologist 59% jew, 1% THE FUTURE! kill vin deisal! kill vin diesel! kill dean anderson. lol!

this is the equiva-lint of to kill a mockingbird..it's to kill a mockingturd with sluts..impressive. but why ask why? when the bar is merely heaven, and you are all dead, but the patrons, the patrons sweet lord are all women you've boffed including the ones your family that you got to boff, and the ones that got away..you are rimbauld the wisened and at that very moment you realize as you're about to stuff it in miss. Gradualating (your nun in third grade)..you notice the bartender, hank, and guess what he's a hunk? and he notices you too. you drop miss what's her name to the floor nude and swollen to the straw peanut littered floor and mowsie on over to your next moment in hell, ah i mean heaven.see. proof that anythings possible in heaven, thank the lord.

But can you staple and stamp with your arms in a pole soaked in semen with your chin. how many words a minute? next.

my homey? cliffside i'm guessing your either english young and searching for an identity, or american and a savant, autistic..a bit sharp and dull..the appropriate term is me homie, spleefton.

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