RANDOM LUST

Close as few atoms thickness

Mr. Random — Tue, 30 Nov 2010 13:01:33 +0000

Grouped bard notification or disk player under the desk, how it turns around and enjoys status like windfall, furniture and peelware, far used and started there. Active not listening urge to ignore but weather feels fabricated and mixed with hair. Chicken dice active, where the wound-up matters layer close as few atoms thickness, breeze bringing tomorrow as a program I heard years afraid enough ago. Routes through are rare, but plumbing is the secret.

The sonogram of full particles, each knowing NOTHING.

Mr. Random — Tue, 23 Nov 2010 04:51:59 +0000

Falling into the theory of judging mitochondrial angst against the weirdest of juxtapositions, palms of the hand staying far away from the touchpad. Thumbs up this guy! You know where and you know Rick—rolled into town from far under the huge beige thing with bright red at the top, virtual vertical integrity with angular velocity.

When they know what I am saying, the terrorists have won. Something extra will be found in your envelope this week. Assuredly, honest, dependable, workmanship, expensive few words can express, etc. Finish submarine, tough act, page fourteen, nothing slim about this, nothing harder.

I swept into a few nasal passages, easel handrails, the nothingness of a nondescription, picking apart the raw black pieces of individual letters, characters on the page. Pixels of pieces. The sonogram of full particles, each knowing NOTHING. Percentages, you are where you are. Bursting forth clinics and positions, each funding nothing but more hope or hype, we don’t know.

But go for raw positives, the song runs true: close clues walk deep grooves and only skip when struck. Finally, there is the point at which the due becomes the crusty old pencil number in a moldy notebook. Come over here where it is clean and understood. Nothing but high lies and awkward misdemeanors, ocean polish and figurine.

Steam and lumped fractions

Mr. Random — Fri, 19 Nov 2010 13:44:25 +0000

Tune less greater sand marvelous and tipped: making the hybrid complete and numerous, shelf rose and the pistony verbatim of your complexion mathematical or crow leads in to situational fairness. I gotta lotta. Foist and bring. Platelets congraited for big hand to move 5 places toward the 12, added freely to the hosted luggage round ’bout these big shorts and loose gangs. Steam and lumped fractions had both of us reaching for cameras and gumdrops, never losing sight of the traditional way to fabricate the liquid. Metallic is a way to form trellis retectonic hindfights as you wish, more and speed on matter, bubbles all the way down.

Taking in the saunic filter juice, grit released to history

Mr. Random — Thu, 18 Nov 2010 14:04:24 +0000

Glide mist pastry honeydoll you know the freight charge and the handling cartwheels are extra phenomena, pursed flatness with ink pressed front like a window. Stacks of mattresses are curving over under the tilt of gravity. The river from the top to the bottom. Very gradual, and then boats forward with taste imagination, bobbing and taking in the saunic filter juice, grit released to history. Night dawn minnow formations, dragon lack the warpower, cat wails in the upstairs portion. You know if you repeat it it becomes the next term, preceded by a comma and natural love.

Jump down from the couch, thump to the floor, stop and clean a little fur. Where is the staying force of play? Locked within a firm egg custard bowl, like meat broccoli plural and whispered fun, connivance! Brown rings of quality everywhere as the clock inches toward my personal crosswalk, I glare pervasively and my eyes roll on the floor laughing their asses off. Punch closet mix a pedal with a talk in the dark, showing me another tic, another second, another portion of meltness, finishing in fact.

Ministerial registry gladiator mung bean fallouts

Mr. Random — Wed, 17 Nov 2010 13:37:57 +0000

Kettle marooned on the four shacks entrance bell gang son, missionary feels groggy and needs to make a felt intuited hole, down in the rocks and wine. Picking the way past coffee beans brown and ground and moused under where he could say his tables, his charts of plenty, his american fun: tomorrow a repreening, a giddy fiddling, like today’s ministerial registry gladiator mung bean fallouts. Somewhere it ends, somewhere there is an included middle that rails your electricity down the hatch, like fez dogs and holiday aires. My going to the place where they make the bowls, the internal pressures fill them out that way.

Pricked with signage and bad shrubbery

Mr. Random — Tue, 16 Nov 2010 04:33:18 +0000

Hydra fork rather hamburger and nut fires in the middle of that newspaper, over there, and calendula 4/5 that way like dim and out of luck. Should I rifle the sipping sauce for other purposes deveined like jumbo size and more? Pencil aimed at me precise and tooth-alloyed like runbodies and backnoise relottery times, more gain, less average. Conducive to normal, water dark pink with marauding colorant. Wingback and gaunt, you philistic phantom renegading your carriage throughout the rankled business, all through the dew-plagued plastic lawns pricked with signage and bad shrubbery! I vibe spondee and necklace, verbate allowed on and if and regency, placement so sublime that I forgot the dictionary, whole and parted, when a little is enough and fortress is a long long day.

Gunning for a little aft motion

Mr. Random — Sun, 14 Nov 2010 23:41:59 +0000

Spotted gall, involving cat tricks, involving seeds of division: perky annointment intuiting through the fur into another reclensive wholeness. Get out of the speed interface, around grabby inkwell notranians giving cause for hike and naught. I glue the spectacle to the face of need and wander beside fuel transfer lines and latitude reverse hotbuilds, gunning for a little aft motion and greed entropy! Knock down your intrepid funnel tones and get into the wavelet configuration with all your tiny boson-characteristics and heist the demon of the sterno can, spread it all over the childproof sector, inward toward scattertowns and vessels of fortune, ages gilded to storms and raisin sorrows. Glimpse of normal forbidden to enter! Take a little softened butter and spin your yarn fully timed and fabric shawled like a morning park bench half intended to see the gallons today and eat for once under the sky when lectures sail and whether or so, it’s rusty and shut.

Consult the encyclopedia on the run

Mr. Random — Sun, 14 Nov 2010 23:29:14 +0000

Thirty odd and hunting hard, the November rites around the corner, I tune into the base frequence, bottom of my skull, and hand it north to the circuits beyond control or repair attempt. They are perfect and I ask nothing more of them now. The future is an apparent attempt to distract a few of us from our current! Our now mission. I inhaled the fumes from the area metered excess and turn it for a few pounds and some quick midtempo breath exercises. See me what you will, running off for a roundabout nut think. Goobermania is the residual spintime. I had a different feeling than any other ever did. It would be required thinking in the times to come. Had it been any more the same, I would have had to consult the encyclopedia on the run. In the elevator, running around the moon.

Fetters and scrimshawed pictures of doctors seeing patients, of the ministry of truthiness compared to the shiny retired quirks you never taught us to say. Camping in the corner of the room. Tracing a line in from the window over to the clock. I was taught to say the polite things without thinking. How is that again? Please? Quandary, mockery, tinnitus, climbing the ladder to string theory. I had enough of similar frantic ideas, enough of stopping the park chants just one more time. A couple of hens had started to plant a garden, just so they could did it up again. Route justified on time and in place, I made it a website and sent it some email. The wonderous thing is that I had a whole month to do this, a whole 30, or 31, or 28, or 29 days. The multiple nature of my folds could encompass a whole cogitated nation. Spent with you.

So I could imagine that something similar is happening to you. But it isn’t, and not to me either. My posture is ridiculous and I better not reveal the other aspects of my annealability, simple as that. There are turns where I come around again to the other side, and do a quick math problem to realign my reasoning sensors to the local paradigm. High ground, left to its own devices, mobile and otherwise.

Dowager clemency

Mr. Random — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 10:47:50 +0000

Shy bien cool ate my tomatoes, you know. I reared my ugly and said the same thing to the fellow next to me, don’t we know, don’t we all know. The despair erupted among a group of Egolish militree-men. Zang fraud to the rescue, suscipion alloy fission bicarbonate theatrical renunciation: all goo and kino intuition. Farce, makeup, actualize: the checkbook accuracy of my own dowager clemency was up to no great agony or spite. Since I could take the time to do it, they were all rightly clumsy in my hallucinated presence. Forge and allow me to pursuade you and your acumen? Your acuity? Your astuteness? Simple, partly, negative, shown already was management and necktie brief bayou grenade grab.

the weaqon, the mightsythe

Mr. Random — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 01:26:05 +0000

Time rundren the fickles and turning around in the public niles, sacked and turned on by the angries. That was the first sound I shot, things and fanjacks twisting with the lower palms of their hands raised up and their fingertips typing. Casting the breeders beside comma-obsessives but no longer in the hunt for foreigners, awkward neathings and forth. Say again the mathematical farsightedness of the free, the knock jawed seethe or canberra timeapple whichbasks. Just the same. Reworked, reworded, seeward and vind. I shame fate eael come closer and meal, the frum the gup, the juniper sweet tale!

Modificate manifrell, zimp and zank. Further musty abish. Hot mock nit quar, delking enough. For here was the problem, the sinkhole, the abyss, the picture of doom, the bath of error. Simply put, sjlli. Yes sjlli, the very. No more, no more!

Jane gyrates and focuses syrupy novel brainmotions toward the river of pop, blocking out sensational affecting beautiful triomphs and druglord pizzarazzi, maya GOD, temple sheining and forcosen, bit rud. Jane feels along the wall for the weaqon, the mightsythe, the light forsook and ruin, joined in nadmess by the noon full and crowned. I I stood stood. Silence took reign, deliberate and giantific, yellow marbled young staunchion. Uilli, brillik, vernanto briage. Kept comaflawzhed in carprehension and duty horned round mountain. X on map. Here!