/    so... in thor: ragnarok...
at one point does
   scurge actually pull out
          two... m16's...
and rings out - für valhalla!

   is this slap-stick punk-movie
inference of what
would qualify as a burroughs'
style of narrative?
          
does he pull them out
his ***, or his libido, counter
the needed ****** to **** hel?
  and it's not hella:
so...
                i appreciate
the fact that i'd rather be
collecting garbage, and taking
the collections to either
a recycling plant,
              or a land-fill site...

ugh... green bottle flies?
the most fertile part of the family,
black flies are harmless
compared to them...
  the amount of maggots
that spawn in the black bin garbage?
ugh... puke...

                 it makes ******* excesses
of naturally imposed skin
(without a semitic revisionism)
look kinda appealing,
comapred to those -
   wriggling... "things"...

    i'm still asking moths into
my bedroom to see their larvae
feast on cotton...
i'm dying to see a moth larva...

after a while, in such a heatwave
such as this, that currently
grips england,
   and the decaying strawberries:
thankfully i have enough
of them, picked early,
to subsequently binge on them...
raw... no added sugar,
no yogurt...
     to replenish the ****** juices
and wish for a strawberry
rash on the body:
within dermatological study-interests...

hence i once an old english pair,
pushing a sick dog in a baby buggy:
- do you believe in a seasonal diet?
they look bewildered -
yeah... local produce... in season...
fruits in the summer months,
only vegetables in the winter months,
fruit outliers akin
to pears and apples in the autumn
months?
they looked at me honestly
            bewildered..
why would you eve ingest
any carbohydrates
                          in the summer?
starch sugars...
   huh?
                  more bewildered
than ever.

  this, ******* insomnia of being
able to buy placebo straberries
in december,
the spanish watered down sort...

english strawberries: in summer...
and then, when the season
could be continued:
akin to elijah's prayer for rain.

beside the point, season III of Versailles,
came a message as to how
the French and English public
find the drama too ******...
            i guess... it's better watching
the ***: without the drama
within the confines of *******...
the dehumanißed -

    that time in an athenian strip
club?
             that **** was magic...
i talked to a younger stripper,
while two older ones laughed it while
i pushed my face into their bosoms
holding two in either arm,
and the greek bouncers did:
   **** all...

                      but season III of Versailles?
i binge on that kind of ****,
esp. given there is a revision
of alexander dumas' novels...
   notably: the man in the iron mask -
          (der man in die eisenmaske) -
considering the fact,
that the fiction of alexander dumas,
has the man to be implied as
louis XIV twin...
    who was born "first"...
      yet "somehow" simultaneously...

really, the english and french audiences
are complaining about
too many ****** scenes in the drama?
i could expect that from
the english: who didn't appreciate
the genius of britannia
   (notably? the rambling outcast shaman) -
but the french?
   with their liberal attitude
surrounding sexuality?!
    oh...   so they can do the carnal,
non-drama of ****...
   but can't do the drama -
             with some **** included?

but... ha ha... can someone tell me
what the hell happened
in thor: rangarok -
when scurges jumps out with
                            two M16s?
i know what taking out the trash
is at this time of year...
        a womb of green bottle fly spawn
wriggling
    into a canvas of rotting cat food...

if any of Versailles' accountability
of authentic history,
    compared to an alexander dumas
novel -
               about how a current
louis XIV is a cardinal richelieu puppet...
and der man in die eisenmaske
is the authentic louis XIV...
          no spoiler alert...
     i'm not telling -
   like in that rob zombie song - what?!:
i don't have to tell you anything...

    and yes, italian shpaghetti...
         cardinal leto:
    when the the serving girl brings
him a bowl of red berries,
subsequently lifts her skirt,
and he dismisses her...
  'you thought wrong girl...
we do not feast in carnal pleasures...
         but strawberries?'
ha ha! could you really dismiss
a naked **** like that -
with those 17th / 18th century
french, cotton white knee high
tights - with little ribbons
attached to them at the back?
    ****** has eyes like a hawk,
and a stomach like a gorilla.
point being:
    shveeden does the pop these
days,
    what was a.b.b.a.:
                      became:       ghoost.