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LJP07

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PART 1

 

PART 2

 

So, then she looked down the scope of a very scientific machine. It looked like cheap painted brick… painted deep pink…

 

PART 3

 

Are there three? There will be a new god boobies. All hail queen boob. Whoops, I forgot the code to and manboobies too, so said JJ. Then, orb left to the tune of 10,000 dollars. He was a cheapskate who ejaculated when he sneezed. We found that 85% of Hypographers are actually part of Nazi concentration camps, which imamonkey liberated with banana extravaganza, then tried killing with his FA22 Raptor the person who kidnapped his girlfriend. But he was actually Freeztar covering up his electric banana… Which Jay-Qu used to stun Prolu.

 

I quickly diverted an infinite twist of 360 degree angles, spiraling in upon 3 black holes with negative mass, unlike my sister with excessive masses and bombastic gasses wearing cateye glasses and neon sashes with mascara lashes.

 

I kissed her an dshe had heart failure and fell down with a frown. Her smell was not that enticing, in need of French perfume, a divine herb, to make a fragrant exit from the nauseated masses sitting on their misbehaved rhyming classes. I was setting the stage for fat hairy asses, fat hairy donkies, with small wrinkled aliens riding them mysteriously, while committing to the agreement that all beings are light energy, and therefore must agree up Energizer to keep going.

 

That is, until they run down the donkey juice. Then, they will line dance to the nut bush and pink oranges, while listening to some Tangerine Dream and throw up bloody mucous filled with green peas and chicken fillets… swirling circular orbits equal to pi and directly proportional to fecal matter found inside the new, but interesting, left nostril of the mutated species of the seasnake.

 

These fecal boogers came very fast and unexpectedly started to make pancakes. The pancakes superimposed their own agenda upon the proletariat, causing nothing but disorder and dissent in the bordellos and the brothels. With that, I decided to intervene. I’d had enough of the lies. It was time for a beer, a crown lager was my choice. Understanding this drink was horse piss carrying shamanic mushrooms with Mycobacterium Tuberculosis, I gulped it. I instantaneously experienced a TB onset surging through the alimentary canal. I immediately sought refuge at the nearest brothel, from which I committed unlawful acts. I experienced earlier contractions. I was disoriented after foul play with the same hooker as yesterday.

 

Meanwhile, below deck she made me a tasty porridge from the finest oats and sweetest honey from sourwood flowers. It was delicious. Most people never learn to sail the solar wind, and end up flatulent. Nevertheless, when exhaust is open engines don’t stall, but small people smell with noses like a cows pasture waiting for me on the planet, Pluto. But, Pluto…

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