Thursday, October 18, 2007
Fruit In Milk Trouble
The milk took on a heat quality, needles struck some nostrils, open wide helices shaped scapularly through heedless ways. I hate blacksuited froth men. I fucking can't take the bubbling mustache, the urban saucer of radiant froth butter. O froth princess. Fuck the shit out of the creamed child of your spirit. Spiritual Greenfield, Spiritual Hatfield, Spritual West Tallahassee.