Mona met numerous hardy foolish. What? gulps her neck. How can many be infinite silence spine?
Jill fare catch-up.
Fanny has her 'fam,bly'. She oak and soak. What pretence of objectivity to objectivity is this totalaizing force of heart to heart in the heartless.
Franny read Laingy's Politics of Expereince. He did not understand it . He read it wrong. Wrong wrong. He thought it said one thing it said many not one, but mummer's was wrong. Jill never corrected what Franny thought. Franny Guattari the seconde has to correct the erring philosopher. Her grab beams are good for the both ofthem. and their Spinozistic ontologies. They drive and drive. many cloud. Far off moon. She came to find bad words.
Her concept percept was nervous affected. Between lesbian gestures of the kind no one grasped. Her held hand camera was seconded by buyers from four effing cornice. Not a swag to share among then, and amongst was all left. Out to dry and bitter! pitter patter more, her pivoted strain.
( Will you tell what Pierre Fanny read wrongrong? I think not! that'd be giving the fort away! O me o my. O dear dry dry dry.)
I have seen many plateaus! she cried. Her sob was winding down path to end of column. Not printed near her metaphor was a box of machinism. Oui oui Monsieur she cried. At Vincennes we always made the grade. No money either we had coffee after coffee in the days. In any event, Mona was a runt, not a punter. Her pintle shaved head was bridesgroom to the mating of Adam and Eve. The first stymied time she played rummy 500 she lost. Then absconded on her duties, she was caged in the dining room of biography. What craziness is that!
I ask, as any sane saint would. We are card-players not chess players.
Jiil wearing clothes. Her dress long and folded fabric to the end of. Then some. After more. She dress as a darned shirt. Or wet apron around her wet hanky around her hair. Or something like her and Guattari getting it going after Mai 68.,