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diggin’ black widow rabbit trick, bubbling over the sides, locusts focus their hocus pocus eyes on the prize, golden gilden, raped girls, draped in pearls, skate in circles, hot black top, absurdest squirrels full of crystal curls, earl of duke, hurlin’ puke, duck duke is duke duck, sick of the way incidental floss gets struck, dumb struck in his beak by dumb luck, why even last week he proclaimed he would rather get bum fucked by a truck, than take his seat in the heat of the powerful public emulsion of muck. (suspiciously citing his rational fear that his trusty and dutiful safe scuba gear had become irreversibly fucked up)
“hey pal, take a look over there and tell me what you see.”
“I see a tall man dressed only in green.”
“yes indeed, now if you’ll only look close you’ll observe his condition; his face and body marred beyond recognition, and hidden in his twisted visage, rotten eyes deprived of vision. and while the repetition of this exercise will make you wise, it is best if you can to avoid indecision.
becoming befuddled involves betrayal of barriers built to protect your minutia from electric angels ascribing to recent subsidings of rash behavior, tripling chances you’ll end up a savior, finding you wavering walking the edge of a razor blade.
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