Leicester 7 - Limoux 0

I artistically remove all books. I enter the beige. I swipe the sofa and blow in the ashtray waiting to find an excuse to use the washroom or walk for discret ticket my back to your back wall, my head tilted to the sides, like your mum and dad. I turn on the TV, Insane Psychiatry and Hollywood Machine. At home alone she washed her feet in salt and Agua the Land of Salem Zero. Seized a new artic lascivious email from the other guy, I don mind this anymore, I just twist the game and throw the bodies away. In every new delight a planetary zoo, in every new home a leader alone but spruced up and clean from all previous owner, my girls, but cleant in the best intentions, every sweat has its days and the end plasteres away. The mare has immigrated to the barn in the middle of my lawn, riders on the sun, O Uranus boy and poetic canoodle, they'll do, they will do these verses in haste thrown at the passer bys and I block the hole with a french consonnant. The C with a wing on the bottom witches the shit inside her hole and may she roll, may we stroll, may we smoke and evoke in the red geraniums. To the 321 stars in line under the black legs of Simone and Lord Fluopethacleś 150 captives in Retford Land, planet Of Oxypand per monthe and milligrammed. Father send a cigar.....333lovetoall@yagooll.connes.cu from from.