gnerfy paste! trunkly and lifted of coda, tawia sparkles with an orange-flavored facsimile of her nightmare's carbonation. it saddled her with bright irises and puppets meant for scarring the alligator's hairdresser. no shame in public forays. the quality of bleach distance, the separation, turns a downshift into special. eventually, pom poms become your shoes and clown shoes become your ears and eyes. that's freaky deaky. 030212 what's it to you? who go blather from