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I haven't the energy anymore. The pangs of gentle zest tricked me out of my boxers, and left my only brain, grinding against tight denim. Without a calling card, the mulch fell down like French Rain. We were buried in its turbid gyrations. The sky was bright, but we could not see it. Like a lemon, Like a waffle, Like a sack of potatoes, I unhinged my door and challenged my reality with a rotting submarine. Now my eardrums are all of a sudden flooded with the lingering noise of every curse I've ever heard, but I find myself only mildly offended. Checkmate! Touchdown! Presto! You sunk my battleship!
0
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
Game Over
I haven't the energy anymore. The pangs of gentle zest tricked me out of my boxers, and left my only brain, grinding against tight denim. Without a calling card, the mulch fell down like French Rain. We were buried in its turbid gyrations. The sky was bright, but we could not see it. Like a lemon, Like a waffle, Like a sack of potatoes, I unhinged my door and challenged my reality with a rotting submarine. Now my eardrums are all of a sudden flooded with the lingering noise of every curse I've ever heard, but I find myself only mildly offended. Checkmate! Touchdown! Presto! You sunk my battleship!
phil-smith
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
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