/i thought you people liked talking the language of retards, and perverts?! excuse me why i speak but with a minor aspect of comprehension of the higher tiers of circulating excuses... i can apprehend an invigoration of minor-Rus, namely highest scandi... the language you make a fetish of... given that only the ugliest of vikings founded Kiev... so... you little up the *** gesticulation? the last two lines... i'm guessing i stressed them wrongly... english gimps and ****...
to have the vague attraction with
regards
to philippe oh,
duke de orléans, but then to have
the commonality of being prescribed a
woman in an strict, biblical
endeavour...
of: being charged
with an impetus of upkeeping
the pristine gesture...
a future...
what a wonderous advent of
deviating from the siamese ****
clinch of
consciousness... in order to:
craft a
hierarchy and
joy, chopping jaw
of a familial myth...
with an ****** riddled
impetus of continuum...
comes the desire that
i sometimes could own
this rebellious antithesis of
a, deviated from,
norm...
however the....
in writing i could never
allow myself to **** a woman
who was allowed the same
literacy status as me...
no wonder then:
in writing, demand for deviation...
even if my affair was
but a celibate limbo...
no words made from
dry prunes,
could ever forgive a man
attempting ennobling via
celibacy, or warfare,
or...
higher tier courting
in the love of men with
men, among women...
who could forgive such
a man, if not a forgiving,
a continuum, and the blind alley
of a "future"...
the last impetus for
shelved grievance,
be a donned crown,
rather than a hung crown...
a tongue asked of
a grievance,
cut off, and then made to recant...
rather than a tongue:
allowing a court...
such deviant allowances,
hardly allow me to make
transgression of them...
tel, fastidieux, nouveau-norms;
petit-allemand: boiteux
dans anglais-vêtement.