Tuesday

Pride of campd de self

Fictioneering Mona'spride of lions her camp de bivouac self, not kerouac to her candering self.Or subject pas a pas melding the triune feeling to her tophat bowtie lady of these manuscript feet you are none the fretted no work of scrolling tires. O comenow, repeals Jill her shamble shake mummy to her occident oils. Infantile box and unguent gasping . Privateering more like it, it whisks the hi-di-ho-down rathering its smith to forward down the den.

Mona skits oranges twisting lathes her boom-glow row. Or other feathering wilted socks across caverns of deputed denims, socks for her feet, a derby for her brain head.

Fanny, don't bum my tits, you braggart! Infantile trains and derricks to ramshackle yer hoists, infernal conates sisphyean swish anatomical rapscallions. English is her e_name and love's biting ass her tame ruby-shipping rump. Hunkers to slaver over were the boys pantalons. Not mister nymph and her eleven by forted hexameters.

Puf and cuff the pill do they doat, hillyboat to her skivvies. Around this hall the forty elders of sciene and privy sat. Thought smacked their head, as any dagwood rainbow might if she were the thought that buried the tomb. Amn't we goin to the wood, habit queried. Perish me timbers, by the Lord Christ we'll have the living of you yet, you tart of the fartbenders and rule crackers. Come ye faithful dossies yer ragwood slacking clowning days , a bosom for any failing nail, you'll have. Flaunt yourself before me, will you? Crab-wise my little nutrient buckle.
Impetto Impetto private caretaker's tiniest thingamajig. C_ this tongue's inscribed on your ass. Jill hushy to her hussy willingness! shush yer scandalous mouth of diamonds . A jocund tart was better than none. A sandalous lesbic speech armed with plates, cups, upward standing houris. Low buttocked high buttocked sheer weighted the swayed hipping of her enjoinment. Restart camp once more, myrtles and Agamenonon. Nononon. Yes yes yes Come all me triolets, triplets to your wrong


treble clef to this fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari
song