Sitemap - 2025 - 5-063
I’m about to smother myself in syrup
The kale and the conscious uncoupling
Inching my dial back to Fergalicious
Mayonnaise right across the sockets
A sense of inherited wealth while I piss
The primal scream of his thighs groaning against the seams of his unlong trousers
A provicial shopkeeper about to drug you so the townspeople can lock you in a wicker man
Madonna’s son in dick-print joggers and a billy goat stole.
Great support for your meat crayon
Even the most total of oiks will reek of sophistication
Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I’m homebound