Wednesday, January 11, 2006


Blessed Nurturing, ten toes and a bite mark outlining your life, the bank account Zombie, trace amount of self respect vetoed to the winds and to that incurable eating frenzy next door to every lame-ass representation you curled up into, claiming victory.
The disease of the Zombie carried by the viewing of the Sasquatch. Those incredible toes. That foot Size!
I run away in the afternoon.

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