Sub - The bitch carries water through the woods like a fiery sphere of a lifelessly weak pussy.

j.krueger/dtr/fdm
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  The bitch carries water through the forest like a fire
a certain sphere of a lifelessly weak pussy. Oh, me!
Oh you!  Oh, from Karaganda!  Let them torture me
blue ribbons, let them rape the sausages -
fat - I don't care. I want to hold
your phallus in your hands and rule the world
as if it were a herd of cows grazing between
grass and clouds. I don't know what to say
further, but this hour lasts twenty-five
minutes and not a day more. In a millennium two
such hours and they walk: first the left one,
then the right one - like boots with gray soles -
by you, trampled on the road dust, which
the eyes of classics and contemporaries are clogged,
raping me with the dicks of their worldviews.
ABOUT,!  The field is frigid, the sky is frigid, everything is frigid
well, nothing gets excited looking at mine
phallus twisted like a swamp tree. All
frigid!  Let the cup into which they drip
those seconds when I have an orgasm,
will overflow and spill onto the table like a black
nile made from vampire blood. Let
Satan rapes women in the mud, among
shiny puddles of lilac clothes!  ABOUT!
The absurdity knows no bounds!  Ocean of sounds
the surf hits the balls of every impotent man.
A river of colors flows into the golden vagina
you fish, but I don’t want to jerk off my dick in front of
with the help of astral axes or phallic
figures thatevery morning caresses
vomit.Hair on balls matted-
curl, curl and Goldilocks runs around
fields and rivers, collecting money for rescue
Cinderella, which is later anyway
will rape.    Lesbian rape
smells of manure and gopniks. From drug addicts
pink flowers emanate, cold sounds
bowel movements and fiery maned vaginas fall
from their empty eyes. When the brain is burned out by drugs
tics (which includes contemptuous
vatives, sounds of "blue" and "meh" and army rem-
no), there is a feeling of a brick in the head,
next to which a mouse does not live, wears-
plagued by an inferiority complex and
the Oedipus staff and the cat, whose penis is replaced
nen for half of the vagina and processor
Pentium.
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  The murder theme irritates my keyboard
looking for the texture of insufficiently long hair
sacrifices made with axes and vases. Fiery
the gentlemen, intoxicated with sadness, are torn apart
happy worried victims, and I orgasm-
I'm bored.  Phallic symbols - without
not a single telephone call can cost them -
conversation neither with grandfather, who died, nor with
sandwich that I vomited early
hangover day.  Phallic symbols
as boring as the murders of evening singers
bitterness in the victims' mouths. It's strange to reel in
hair on your hand, knowing that if they go where and
grow, then this is my neighbor's TV
continent. And when the letter Ysuddenly lit-
is, scorched by the flames of the black astral, I
I understand that from Keter to Malchut everything is one
lies and no one knows than Sigmund Freud
wiped his ass. Kabbalah also lies
at the expense of Gustav Husak, who predicted
Nostradamus at one of the congresses of the Communist Party of the GDR,
where in the finale they mutilated a portrait with a knife
Stalin, and Lenin's mummy danced the cancan and
gave a blowjob to the fiery snake gorynych.
Is the truth out there somewhere?  Where?  I haven't seen either
one truth of a thing, except the word "DICK",
tattooed on a passing
a phallic-shaped cloud that falls in love
walked into me as if I were an ass in which-
I believe the regiment commander was pushing the banner so that
save him from the hands of goblin, mermaids and engineers -
ditch-technologists. I don't believe that stocks
MMM - unworthy of being buried
buried at the Vagankovskoe cemetery. This
Everyone is worthy, even those whose penis was torn off
Russian-Japanese War of 1905. And that’s all
the rest even more so!  But if a woman
put on a collar with a leash and wants
being walked outside naked
a thirteen year old child with a sausage instead
member, then so be it, because I'm not
dogmatic, and if heaven likes to be
azure - please, as long as it's not
sperm flowed into open condoms
tives that you are just about to wear
pour on your dick while sitting in an empty bed
in front of an imaginary partner that you
lovedtwenty years after his
inevitable death.Hurray! All.
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  When the window is empty, dark and aching
dog poop left in the company of
snow, I have a feeling that
my dick falls off and in its place
going to grow a vagina. Need surgery-
tion for removing a runny nose from the nose and catching
collection of fish feces from the waters of a vase with rotten
flowers.  Oh!  Lautreamont told me - no
marry a sewing machine, and I won’t serve
naughty. I didn’t become a little goat.  It's sad
when the night light starts running along the wall,
sing the sky and masturbate with text
"Marseillaise". Ode! Sadly!!! And joyfully
at the same time, as if my wishes are coming true
in miniature, somewhere in the cell of my penis.
Why do I keep mentioning my penis? Mo-
maybe because the vagina hanging on
wall above the TV and under the floor of the apartment
ry from below excites me to think about sleeves
shirts, gorilla hair and penis. And also about
Lenina. Oh, he's very exciting, this little one -
a bald worm that got free
mausoleum spaces and raped
cold, hunger, bedsores and substances,
similar to the contents of the ten Sefirot. A
if there is still a God and he wants me
eat, then will the blue ribbon help me,
which I waved in the corridor when I was
seven years and eight seconds? Or maybe
I have to detonate a grenade and collect itfragments and sit in the middle of the field and toss-
hit them until they attract attention
a curious ostrich that will rush at
and rape me? After all, those who are raped
loval ostrich is not accepted as an astronaut. Their
sent to a fairy tale where they suck elderberry branches
and kiss the bricks of the houses. Oh, poor me! When
blue and pink sunsets, sunrises and
umbrellas will die, leaving me joyful
melancholy of a beaten dog and cruel
happiness of the executioner who guillotined
26,455 people and went crazy with the view
blood pouring from his queen's finger. Or
maybe you can grow strawberries on
the skin of women's vaginas?  Cultivate
garden crops and garden lack of cultivation in
the brains of a journalist obsessed with description-
Research Institute of Rape and Fishing. Fuck, how would I
I wanted to catch a trout and stick it in
screw someone's ass or screw their worldview. A
is there life on earth? I think on Earth
there is nothing, but our planet is called FUCK!
And the Earth revolves around Fuck, like an ass
centaur around a pink fire where a tourniquet
books, films and asthmatics. I'm not impotent
I love. An impotent person is usually stupid and thinks about
how to manage to insert your loose
phallus into the hole between the bricks, which
he looked after him even before his birth
daughter who made it
impotent, cursing dirty when he
tried to rape her with an angry umbrella and
covered in catsemptiness. Hooray! - Said
pencil pencil and died of choking
cockroach feces the size of
nine-story hour.