horse_tingling_spineradish paste! in the wild morse code of your scarce breathing i tunnel through layers of the healthy parmesan/joule home and see that nothing has changed babe, not a goddamn thing. keep tryin to floor, the spies can't see your feet. 031207 ... oldephebe and morning mist wafted up from her amply hirsuit armpit...and i turned in bed towards the floor and vomited..in that empty heaving desperation..kind of way...next time i'm going for safe and suburban and well yeah maybe bland but at least she can be counted on to shave her under arms and laugh at my fairly generic witticisms..... those minimalist dour types..! 040312 what's it to you? who go blather from