first it was again
if you become a superhero - call yourself postfoll, scripts of abilities epic movement commas again fuck with no intonation, antonovka of the sequence of knowledge, and according to statistics, it’s quite a canon for yourself, as it were, not to be quantized because of this ribs of punctuation banners, thought fluctuation, in general, the norms will be your patsyk according to saenz-fiction, it’s as if spiderman is a maguire, when the sandman was driven down, in the rays of the skyscrapers, the trump is clear, but the dead, they were such tests in the seas. and in black. Wealth ball under black caviar, weaving on yakhontovye pomegranates, copper 3 clogged up, well, you never know the thought will get into a rut and the dissonance will go away, look you now with harmony will blow away the all-consuming understanding of the epic moment. fuck art house, the purest sublimation in your face with a jet of demetering sentiment by pixels per inch, why is it so short?
in short, the hero’s trick is that despite the fact that he’s fucking fucking niibazzo, he finally can’t do anything with his garden life, and not only he doesn’t have it, she is and is, in fact, she’s so fat, according to Fat Carloson Dropper dopamine injections out of the heart, lower the bitch, fuck hertz. here the sharpness of the fucking moment is in the icons of bright, dense outlines of fire-hot chili peppers. almost 5. 4 whole THREE SEVENTHS. and half in September by eight to divide the empirical-etheric grid with the model. gravity, cavitation, pole changes, reptiles - no, don’t light the fertile once, but lan, it’s certainly not wet! only your schizophrenia. about such a short script trick in ours is almost already with the character of PostFol's special hero. fuck, is it fun for you to read this garbage?
Who are you? I am you’s tracks
published on
published on
published on
published on
published on
published on
published on
published on
published on
published on