Sunday

HUff and

Huff and muff the double joined mouths holding the cock of the clock adn the walking wail! its trombone time and the thriving rhymes come along the keyboard. Not the whore of the south nor the blank god of the north nor the poor white southern baptist asshole nor the any of the above. but the muted array of their forebone loss. Not a posse either you hussy! ___________________________________She rhubard rushes to the E-Box feeling her fuck prick! that way its christmas time inher fronted lace eiderdown.


____________________A fat ass down south near the permitted of look. She comes across as something nuanced turns out to be a faster cow than the rest . Envious to a fault and stupid with grrosss wings! She wants Mona's shelter!

_________________________Jack be numble mumble nimble quick sees it all coming before shes fucked an eye,

and ________________________________Exiting makes his salvo!

Poof you dumb arse! Dont come between me and my guattari!