Requiem... ?? You mean a thot process... ?? Dear, I gotta lotta thot process. Follow us and wiseabove...
What's your address in the hereafter, dear? Dunno? Mine's 111 Rock-Solid-Ave, Milky Weight, Seventh-Heaven. My mansion? Mama mia. A grandiose, exquisitely detailed, 3-acre-stuccoish home in a cul-de-sac with mountain-bike-trails we may conform with our thots. Why limit God? Why not fire-ALL-cylinders in one-fell-swoop? My intimacy with women Upstairs? Subtle, fire-engine-zeal: skiing, surfin, sailin, snorklin, surrender <-to-> scarlet symmetry to snuggle and serve... slow, soft, supersonic Sunday School... eXcellant, eXcessive eXaggeration of our lives woven together that's push-button, point-blank improv... a sassy, savvy, passionate antidote... a plethora of high-degree, Newtonian-laws-of-physics, where one force of kick-ass, party-hardy, white-water-rawwness equals every, single, evening with guhroovilishous avatars, tender faeries, cereal killers and symbiotic, front-row-seats. Whew. Yes, of course! Baby making is most certainly an option! ...yet, I gotta see how sHe feels about sharing me. My many planets? Gorgeous girls? Gott'm. Gotta lotta'm. Gotta gobba IQ, too, withe K2 orchestra only accessable to adolescents: TOTALLY YOURS!!! How??? Gotta accept Jesus, missy!! So, let's accelerate to the Maximum POW!er; let U.S. 'populate' the universe with loyalty to the Bright Son. Wanna join me in God's cutNdry, wild Kingdome, as time, as an entity, is also mortal: while thar aint no time in Seventh-Heaven, doll... yet, puh-lenty of time to love due to the superior-supply-of-summer...
...cuzz the only other realm aint too cool: a sweltering and cramped, as BeavisNbutthead sawing-off your cranium with a chainsaw; nasty darkness, eternal starvation, Satan lies like a Persian rug, as o'er-the-Hillary profusely cakkkling for eternity. How purrrecious! sez Gollum. 'Nuff sed. Decide NOW. Make Your Choice -SAW
4 comments:
such a beautiful piece in process Lori
Thanks Mo!!
Requiem... ?? You mean a thot process... ?? Dear, I gotta lotta thot process. Follow us and wiseabove...
What's your address in the hereafter, dear? Dunno? Mine's 111 Rock-Solid-Ave, Milky Weight, Seventh-Heaven. My mansion? Mama mia. A grandiose, exquisitely detailed, 3-acre-stuccoish home in a cul-de-sac with mountain-bike-trails we may conform with our thots. Why limit God? Why not fire-ALL-cylinders in one-fell-swoop? My intimacy with women Upstairs? Subtle, fire-engine-zeal: skiing, surfin, sailin, snorklin, surrender <-to-> scarlet symmetry to snuggle and serve... slow, soft, supersonic Sunday School... eXcellant, eXcessive eXaggeration of our lives woven together that's push-button, point-blank improv... a sassy, savvy, passionate antidote... a plethora of high-degree, Newtonian-laws-of-physics, where one force of kick-ass, party-hardy, white-water-rawwness equals every, single, evening with guhroovilishous avatars, tender faeries, cereal killers and symbiotic, front-row-seats. Whew. Yes, of course! Baby making is most certainly an option! ...yet, I gotta see how sHe feels about sharing me. My many planets? Gorgeous girls? Gott'm. Gotta lotta'm. Gotta gobba IQ, too, withe K2 orchestra only accessable to adolescents: TOTALLY YOURS!!! How??? Gotta accept Jesus, missy!! So, let's accelerate to the Maximum POW!er; let U.S. 'populate' the universe with loyalty to the Bright Son. Wanna join me in God's cutNdry, wild Kingdome, as time, as an entity, is also mortal: while thar aint no time in Seventh-Heaven, doll... yet, puh-lenty of time to love due to the superior-supply-of-summer...
...cuzz the only other realm aint too cool: a sweltering and cramped, as BeavisNbutthead sawing-off your cranium with a chainsaw; nasty darkness, eternal starvation, Satan lies like a Persian rug, as o'er-the-Hillary profusely cakkkling for eternity. How purrrecious! sez Gollum. 'Nuff sed. Decide NOW. Make Your Choice -SAW
MyCrucifixIsMyFix.blogspot.com
-blessed b9
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