Inscrutable pageantries of absurdity written in penis dribble.
All tapped out, wasting away.
Hollow pursuits. A means of rationalizing emotions out of you. New avenues of piddling about, lavished with the mannered ferocity of weaponized dangling modifiers and noxiously seductive fuckadoodle twatwafflery. This might be the day you opt out.
Humorless curmudgeon. Dandy, vagabond, sexpot to the hilt. A carefully considered complexity creaking under the weight of cutesy heartsick coos and disfigured jelly dongs carousing the delicate swarms of dream-logic ganglia or whatever.
