Friday, April 1, 2011

Would You Rather Try Spitting Infinitives or Kicking up Appearances in a Well of Malformation?

We are spitting images at each other.
we are fraternal twins. we are busy
making sentence while striving for
perfunction. we are two-piece pods,
two sides of the same clone, appalling
contraception prematurely immaculated
with multiple organisms then gradually
redressing. we are dancing on heirs with
standing oblation. we are injourned
internally, pleading profusely, and barely
responsible. we are starved for infection
and gambling convulsively, tracing our
routes through the banter of dialects,
raping our locks through the keyholes of
innocence, babbling of relevance to ears
that hear circumvent. we are setting bids.
we are accepting goals. we are waxing
inaudibly. we are epitomized. we are
puzzlesolved. we are quiettouched,
guiltriddled, inkstained, and quicklysolvent.
we are roadwary and scarred to death. we
are brackish waterfalls merging in middles.
we are financially insewered. we are
underworked and overpaid. we are
troubleshot, pilestocked, paperworked, and
piddleproduced. we are frenzy franchised
and pleasantly surplused. we are
druggeddown, rockbottomed, footmouthed,
sextoothed, soundbitten, assfatted,
fiddlefingered, palletskinned commercials.
we are excessive compulsively date raped
till blue in the mouth. we are flying safe to
straighten our lives and it is not working.