Pending

I'm at my idle place now. Harrowing placid with my eyelids racid of all the possible acids I could have accidentally dented my life in. I must have a sin. Or a nimbus – not 2000. Credit due, pending... depending on my mood, I could write some dope shit about anything, I could care a shout. Or stout my ass to frown on some half-empty glass what got broken. I'm so full of myself – enough to be banking my stocks and sell short. Still not shorty like Tyrion, while holding him in greatest regards! How you pull such a mighty giant role, while being a mouse. That is true greatness, not being big as Godzilla, to be the natural born killer – or Sam Hein or Stan; there's better things to do, then you know you can! I know it's not trending to be like that.

I'm fending some crows away from my carrion carcas what means to canvas Barabas next to Jesus and carry on. No hard feelings, to be leaning too far out of the window, as the train is missing the action. Why did they choose thus? Alas! My mind is abstraction mixed with subordinate feelings extraordinarily dreaming – believing, that men could exert more kindness and true value, than poets could ever fathom! The venue of revenue of a given tenured avenue was endured to menu in some other schedule... credit due! But still, why did they do that?? What has a street-mugger, what a preacher don't got? Just because; common foes, that Jews kill Romans; Romans kill Jews – Jesus asked to love them, so die bitch? IDK… That goes... let's just eat at Joe's and get along, that is better than a throng of bullets in my head or yours!

It scours my thoughts to be betters but for naught - each time we talk with nobody we mean everything and nothing gets exaggerated to unrelated correlated coke-dreams to not know what nobody means. Nobody wants to be somebody, and not just any body, what got tossed under the bus or train, could it be any more plain and simple or is it a pimple. To pimp my mind into an L statue of virtue to spell "Loot" the main root of being evil and rood, the reason money talks and makes us brood to be vile and not good! Revile the vipers who vituperate the operations to ratio the rate of some given treat on stage - calling it HATE. Well, Watergate! Calling it hate, if you show tough love and speak up your mind. Fair use left falling behind...

I get my hinges cringing and be out of fringes. I know I should think outside the box, but that ain't closing office... I'm closing in on my cross-hair, then some asshole crossed my hair with his head-but and I asked him to fuck-off, because giving fucks was not my m.o. I would fuck on if he'd be gone from my box-office. Orifice the shout-outs of stout boy-scouts who don't know how to hangout with their mom and dad is so sad! Having to be called by the phone and are like: "You summoned me!" and it's not even War Craft 2 what gets me so back; gored and blue. I want to marry Peggy-Sue, because of my too small shoe I got stuck in their stew, made out of straw-men and straw-hat what's up doctors and M.D's who should be K.O. for real!!

K.O. is my m.o. hay-oh have some ketchup on your mayo and catch up Ash from HOMM3 my homie and don't burn the fort. That would be nice and good sport. But the retort of Merriam-Websters resort helps me to short your snorting wordings into betters discords you could not believe are possible to be distorting. Sort this thing out to be shorty. Tyrion, the best star of the show, leaving many Lannisters without twinkle of a star to hide their bruised egos; scars. And some lost their hand, or was it the chosen lamb, or some others? I mar the shouts of martyrs on par who haven't been matured to venture into the real life of a singleton so far! It's not so hard to fold, if you're playing it on foreign gold or unreal currency and just a game: "Just saying it!"

When people never mean, when they've never been, then how could they dream or even gleam the feels? Slapping is deemed illegal, but spitting in the face anon style is ok. I think its OP and BS that this confess is more than excess of candid grimoire from the sisters Moira - no larp. not even 3L's or Larry Just I'm worried that justice is not done, then through political correctness the summer is almost gone! There are some hipsters, but no hippies; you can't call people gay, for being happy, cause it means now one thing! Reading "Gay Science", and you already have a sing, birdie? I hole in one you just for peeps; outgun you for the stampede you tried to run on me - fool. Nietzsche is better than laissez faire like vanity fair of a carnival of rust. That doesn't ease my pain but holds me in contempt and in vain – glimpsing your condoms!

In chains and entombed are my thoughts. Like a hairy bitch, who lost his comb and can't show himself to her customers to custard the retards some rewards, what the wardens of virtue could not spar. Spare me some change and your 10 cents to have a peace of your mind. Do you mind? I would be Happy in my Fairy tail! Or am I yanking your bull and you feel only shit? Your broken condoms in barbed wire make me mire that it can't end well what enters so deep and means hell... What business could it otherwise disguise to me, than be disgusted of others lives or some other theme... While not living yourself, shelving others into Dracula – lumped in for Bean! It be outstanding to be chanting shanty's of your enchanting demeanor if it was not haunting latrine's what you do and mean on the supreme leadership of public gossiping and deem.