Cunted, Lambed
Penchant for surviving. I know, sorry I'm still here. Looks like the beard outgrew my shit to give. Don't talk to me. Take to me of whatever. Don't take to me. I prefer if you like to mention The words that make you, take you in the first. What's your first, and why did it let you last? Promise me your fire, wood's on the stove. We'll measure the lack by its lash. How's your head? Poisoned mostly, I'm sure. Freshwater will blue you To that. The fish in that fucker angling for dinner. Dinner be despised, if you don't treat it right. Hate the way we degrade ourselves as humans With overtime and a free-throw. Get better, carp-feds. There's a great, pink, yonder pussy out there waiting To be sausaged, beyond Germans, beyond world wars. Beyond our wildest embellishments. But she wants it. Whatever she is. Whatever she's worth. Whatever she Inhabits a monstrous infinitesimal hunger for more. Throw at her some 16-year old red-head with TikTok. Sir, the beast has been neutralized. Give it more.
