Japan got bombed and everybody was infected by the crazy virus. Their gum drops are multiplied by randomness, candy swirls, political malfunction, diatribes of the dead. The haikus tell stories with clever conviction -- but the mask looms in every computer jacked into cyberspace, the death of the human race, boob reels and crotches on the face, Neaderthal IQ busters like the O'Reilly Factor at FOX "News" with the chilling factors of how everything sunk a long time ago, Atlantis here we come, goodbye cruel world goodbye, pun intended. When America is fat and overflowing with lard and Japan struck crazy just in time -- Barbie dolls, "diet cokeheads," Youtube, not funny jokes of wasted time and space, love and hate, everything in-between. The lovely spiral of our lives like we wanted to live them, like we really mean it, like we're in this giant mess of a K-Hole the size of Jupiter, with its colors and structure of the Kings of Saturn, pass the asteroid belt, and like it or not, you got to admit -- you're crazy too.
Japan got bombed and everybody was infected with the crazy virus. Everybody who breathes wears neckties now and Asia has a du-rag on top of its Asian head, thinking they're black, but the morning comes too soon for everyone and with one flash and twice the damage an explosion discharge, the gas of the future; sperms die and nothing sprouts, our eyes are blank, teeth rotten to the core... we shiver like its winter. But there is no winter really. Just hugs too cold like glass lips over ours, sucking the glass dick, cooking up, "fire-fire-fire!", gun addicts and bullet holes. They're selling the gas! Or hasn't anyone seen the bastard Duke eating Soilent Green? How's about a kiss, a peck on the cheek, even a tongue in the ear? Its just a language barrier, only the flavor of the week, nothing has really changed -- nothing really. Nothing. BUT the gum drops with its Wonka cookie flavors. Instantly you cope and head out with the other crazies out of town with those same pills with different colors, sizes, everything sold by retail, even human organs (especially the eyes).
The ghosts of the past are hard to escape, if only the help is at hand. But it dropped decades ago, a century, a millennia, and now we're an asylum of loonies. The bin is full, go back home to the Polar Ice Caps. The Japanese got it right, the toilet is God. Just read the script darling, along those lines you could find sweet uniforms of Japanese school girls that dance like voodoo rice to the best of their abilities, these are crazy times and crazy times need crazy characters to fill the pages, read on soldier and march to the beat of the plutonium drum, grace the land soldier with that cock filled with seed! Japan got bombed -- make love to the flames like an immigrant. The imminent second coming is over. Bikini girls vs. bikini girls are on, time to tune out.
Japan got bombed and everybody was infected with the crazy virus. Everybody who breathes wears neckties now and Asia has a du-rag on top of its Asian head, thinking they're black, but the morning comes too soon for everyone and with one flash and twice the damage an explosion discharge, the gas of the future; sperms die and nothing sprouts, our eyes are blank, teeth rotten to the core... we shiver like its winter. But there is no winter really. Just hugs too cold like glass lips over ours, sucking the glass dick, cooking up, "fire-fire-fire!", gun addicts and bullet holes. They're selling the gas! Or hasn't anyone seen the bastard Duke eating Soilent Green? How's about a kiss, a peck on the cheek, even a tongue in the ear? Its just a language barrier, only the flavor of the week, nothing has really changed -- nothing really. Nothing. BUT the gum drops with its Wonka cookie flavors. Instantly you cope and head out with the other crazies out of town with those same pills with different colors, sizes, everything sold by retail, even human organs (especially the eyes).
The ghosts of the past are hard to escape, if only the help is at hand. But it dropped decades ago, a century, a millennia, and now we're an asylum of loonies. The bin is full, go back home to the Polar Ice Caps. The Japanese got it right, the toilet is God. Just read the script darling, along those lines you could find sweet uniforms of Japanese school girls that dance like voodoo rice to the best of their abilities, these are crazy times and crazy times need crazy characters to fill the pages, read on soldier and march to the beat of the plutonium drum, grace the land soldier with that cock filled with seed! Japan got bombed -- make love to the flames like an immigrant. The imminent second coming is over. Bikini girls vs. bikini girls are on, time to tune out.
.031207.
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