Friday, April 1, 2016

Camelbutt porn and other wild imaginings.

I have a chaotic touch in my imaginings.  I confess it, I am thus aware of it, but unable to control it.

I talk pretty tough for a guy that watches FNC and baseball all day.  I will try to see every Atlanta Braves game this year.

Megynzines are a recursive, glossy medium that reflect the recent past.  They scream for attention, offering up their opinions and medicine ads.

The Isis magazine?  Ads for the New Jersey Lottery.  "You can win 5k a week until your suicide!"  For the lifestyle-oriented jyhadi.  "You guard, take this discarded magazine and wipe yo ace with it!"  Photos of camel butts for those cold desert nights.

A man needs to dream.

Johnny Mathis Christmas songs would be great to get piped in around-the-clock at Getmo.

Here I spoke of chaos earlier, perhaps a lingering of juvenile daydreams.  One cannot apologize for things that he or she imagines, for the mind can be, perhaps, uncontrollable at times, like the contraction and flexion of an involuntary muscle.  Like the wild, continuous writhing of the tongue.  And I will not be held liable for things beyond my control-even things within the airy province of my own mind!

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