Glamorous Sasquatch

Drop the moon man right on its fucking head! For all the head-up-your asses watching, 'what makes you unique?!' Fuck me across the big tops.
Pathetic, stupidity above and beyond, your little baby assholes are going to squirm in meat, invisible lines are going to be erased by tectonics, mushrooms love disturbance in the ground and so do snowboarders.
Paris you owe me maserati, remember, I know (!?)
How about I get you on back, without any parameters to synth 'I could really dance the fuckers rebound' is what I'm getting out.
How do you write this way! And fuck the teacher creature from college, what do you know about art, I mean seriously, look at my clock body and tell me my action going to fast.
I want break most your laws up into tiny rambunctious little fuckers cube world.
I want that elastic rubber bong the size of the Golden Gate bridge with the gypsy star emblem, toilet papper with all the national flags, among one beehive state for medical and ecological, geological and astrology, the lost human relic true contumacious understanding.