Inscrutable pageantries of absurdity written in penis dribble.
Leading with your chin.
Shoot it all to hell. Running out the clock, clit-gazing. Force-fed false-starts follow fast and thick. Hanging on for dear life. A carefully worked-out null sequence of infinite regress, where inevitability can take hold. You get the idea.
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.
