2025-09-24, 10:47 PM
Johnny took the floor, a defiant yet finite look in his eyes. He stopped them, with his swivel hips, his white coat, his wasp waist, his pants up bright, knifed in creases, it's like back glow lights, this pouty lipped wonder of dance style in scope, where was the 70s always, and glitter balls of silver spread sparks of light into the dark dance hall, where the music tilted wavered and danced with a jagged sourced scream. Johnny was small, but he seemed so tall and clothes rack out on the floor of sparkles of the tears of green and purple and gold litters, and letter by letter the cats came, as he communicated volumes to them all strain and purple and gangly, as they gnarled around his shoulders, and they pert big kitten screams, in pantyhose unable. And I am one and glitter did I invite satin sheets coat, come on Johnny is woo away for the table with the candles and the lights on them.
Cozy little room, away from all these actors of the night, these Panthers with their bodies all sheen and begging their red and go time and play, but , don't you see Johnny their care about you is their care by getting off this planet, by getting off a giddy you on Johnny, Johnny Trump Johnny Trump you made you up. Can she see we are stalkers of the night, she and you created as Johnny Trump, give it a name hear the planet you are really on, one time tiny hear me snap Johnny snap one tiny moment hear. And a fumble a fumble . And I lost study from time. Oh God's elbow you sat in, you must be dead, and I must be God. I almost got them.
Cameras crazy and Earth crazy. Distilling this crap all and sundry, which was a bad John Travolta movie back in the days. Hundreds of years ago. And I keep them occupied. So I can find Johnny. Because they believe the stances of the night, those cat women. I don't remember coming here, I never conjecture any of the space ride remember. I'm a loved one in a test tube a Locust 531. Extract. Can't make the room shine again make it shine.. With sweaty joy and desperation. They are all in here, you see, this little beaker,, swirling around down there in the green green liquid. Liquid T growing sour and old with time, when there were the Baker Street irregulars, down there as well, picking up the joint, precious girls as lizards and staying themselves. God, it was sexy, god, it was wonderful.
Flashlight pinpoints of white everywhere. The hollow sound of the shoot, the nasal sound of the death. Was always the way shiny sweated Johnny ended. The late Coolio of the outside evening, and the sweaty hot perspiring summer of the inside disco. Shiny fell. And the dancers and in the red lace caught him this glitzy like it or lump it super star, he fell in their hands with long red broad claws stretched them and scratched him and he screamed. He screamed the deep male voice. I can make it now. I can get out of this goddam lab, because I lost Johnny. One never finds again, the one secret apogee to filter out, truncated life, and me here in the harder it plays, the softer the music flows, it's all a stick of red glowing sex and wildness . I create time and again that I can only see. Me, lost to myself, I did this whole thing in my head, in the raw, the fluid tell me Locust 531, what makes it so easy for you? You see the women sitting and sultry to see Johnny up there in the spotlights stay cool in strangle coat of spangles of sweaty Vaseline of him and this fire spidery in order. This fire Johnny, spider man, cannot put out, for he was an other, whose flaming eyebrows prodded him not in the least and he turned away from the fire that started and in BEEGEES, he went on a psychedelic way.
I'm a stubby man, I'm a scientist. I'm not on the map at all, my face of radiation burns scarred, though . They see it in my creations, a large point of ugliness there to hook them and haunt them carry them to ripping off their clothes, and thrusting their pubic hair into while gyrating hips of Johnny. In the middle of glowing hell flame. The sexual frenzy is wilder. There off, as everyone burns and smoke senses those to writhing sausage flesh, his pants, hurts them off and he gyrated again. How the micro into his mouth of word, I guess I can't guess any further, she gyrated against them and he him. He thrust of his sinful selves into her mouth. Besides catcher ordered, the five cats roared and strung along the burning floor. They lay, he lay beneath them. Their penises and doors and gourds entered farewell touch this way hurt some more. Please them. Please them more. My brain is on fire. I'm gonna scream, but I can't let them know I'm doing this on steam engine became producer fuel. They have a retro rocket fuel. They came for space. And all creamy dreamy space all articulated as the night clubbers go over their white satin covered tablecloths to the rest of them to the Panthers on the floor, the gleaming black solid hard marble floor, and music it's hot, dusty, dirty. I put my hands my head. I was a poet. I do believe in Johnny Trump have Johnny shiny it is a gunshot to his head. I don't believe in Johnny, though. I gunshot in his head in the header Johnny Trump, hear me Johnny, you're dead meat, a dead me from a 30s movie for. I can't, Johnny all the signs and kill all the signs on the head, in my mind, Locust work again please Locust 531. I didn't yell, call it is sweaty room in medical lab.
I am an alcoholic, wearing a gray dingy mock smock coat, and eyebrows don't meet in the middle. But they come damn close. And by some Robert Plant in a huge huge invasive dirt soil of the desert floor, captured in a mahogany prison; Gloria Graham will be there with her funny lip, her language all study eyes, her gaze the smoky look, her hidden jaw. And she would tell me Lucy Rubens loser now, and I say howdy ya know, keep my mother out of this. She was a swell dame, this is the Ark of the 70s, next week thought there in the 80s. Next, they want the Ark of 2020. When stop was my brain without the secret. Locust Baker did not do it. They're going now, man in moment. Boyz are all and girls are all embarrassed and night their eyes and half lidded sex and lost in Seine. Then I care for reality that every jealous, definite homage, near like a Locust scoops up and here is the unique town of unbearable summer and a winter world of desolation sand by God the sand of this place. It's stupid ideas of night is who has indicated underhanded night of the thought off first. But they left it to me. Me, like he, Lucky. There is one thing for certain. The boys are after me. It's only the doing. Of them, only, they are as dirty as I am. And as unkempt, as poorly dressed and shivery as I, lost in the night call, in the cold. In this corner of alley, what dark let night. Wish I had a light, a smoke, warm place for the night, sunshine of the summer day. But the sun doesn't shine on inverts, that's why they take me around and kick me to use me. Hurt me, because they'd like it, because he gets off, he wished he was his free was like my free. But not free of scared him hiding cold. Oh God, I'm cold, he should find me soon here on the rainy cobblestones the sin world of the Ripper. Smiling cheeky Jack should find a chummy catch in a measly boy, I'll be bound. I suits them and use them. Make them less than saucy. I take my mind into their heads and play with their brains at they put my cock that airs and will be bound to be their mouth , as I finally of game playing but for all. Me the most irregular of the regulars irregulars. How I take it??
Wildebeest healthy a pretty bold one of this time thrust of cock. Let me be the one Jack be the one to have your knife's insanity gleam, okay take my eyes, with Jack's cocked eyebrows and is sorely pain inning thou must service me before I take you young lad.
Cozy little room, away from all these actors of the night, these Panthers with their bodies all sheen and begging their red and go time and play, but , don't you see Johnny their care about you is their care by getting off this planet, by getting off a giddy you on Johnny, Johnny Trump Johnny Trump you made you up. Can she see we are stalkers of the night, she and you created as Johnny Trump, give it a name hear the planet you are really on, one time tiny hear me snap Johnny snap one tiny moment hear. And a fumble a fumble . And I lost study from time. Oh God's elbow you sat in, you must be dead, and I must be God. I almost got them.
Cameras crazy and Earth crazy. Distilling this crap all and sundry, which was a bad John Travolta movie back in the days. Hundreds of years ago. And I keep them occupied. So I can find Johnny. Because they believe the stances of the night, those cat women. I don't remember coming here, I never conjecture any of the space ride remember. I'm a loved one in a test tube a Locust 531. Extract. Can't make the room shine again make it shine.. With sweaty joy and desperation. They are all in here, you see, this little beaker,, swirling around down there in the green green liquid. Liquid T growing sour and old with time, when there were the Baker Street irregulars, down there as well, picking up the joint, precious girls as lizards and staying themselves. God, it was sexy, god, it was wonderful.
Flashlight pinpoints of white everywhere. The hollow sound of the shoot, the nasal sound of the death. Was always the way shiny sweated Johnny ended. The late Coolio of the outside evening, and the sweaty hot perspiring summer of the inside disco. Shiny fell. And the dancers and in the red lace caught him this glitzy like it or lump it super star, he fell in their hands with long red broad claws stretched them and scratched him and he screamed. He screamed the deep male voice. I can make it now. I can get out of this goddam lab, because I lost Johnny. One never finds again, the one secret apogee to filter out, truncated life, and me here in the harder it plays, the softer the music flows, it's all a stick of red glowing sex and wildness . I create time and again that I can only see. Me, lost to myself, I did this whole thing in my head, in the raw, the fluid tell me Locust 531, what makes it so easy for you? You see the women sitting and sultry to see Johnny up there in the spotlights stay cool in strangle coat of spangles of sweaty Vaseline of him and this fire spidery in order. This fire Johnny, spider man, cannot put out, for he was an other, whose flaming eyebrows prodded him not in the least and he turned away from the fire that started and in BEEGEES, he went on a psychedelic way.
I'm a stubby man, I'm a scientist. I'm not on the map at all, my face of radiation burns scarred, though . They see it in my creations, a large point of ugliness there to hook them and haunt them carry them to ripping off their clothes, and thrusting their pubic hair into while gyrating hips of Johnny. In the middle of glowing hell flame. The sexual frenzy is wilder. There off, as everyone burns and smoke senses those to writhing sausage flesh, his pants, hurts them off and he gyrated again. How the micro into his mouth of word, I guess I can't guess any further, she gyrated against them and he him. He thrust of his sinful selves into her mouth. Besides catcher ordered, the five cats roared and strung along the burning floor. They lay, he lay beneath them. Their penises and doors and gourds entered farewell touch this way hurt some more. Please them. Please them more. My brain is on fire. I'm gonna scream, but I can't let them know I'm doing this on steam engine became producer fuel. They have a retro rocket fuel. They came for space. And all creamy dreamy space all articulated as the night clubbers go over their white satin covered tablecloths to the rest of them to the Panthers on the floor, the gleaming black solid hard marble floor, and music it's hot, dusty, dirty. I put my hands my head. I was a poet. I do believe in Johnny Trump have Johnny shiny it is a gunshot to his head. I don't believe in Johnny, though. I gunshot in his head in the header Johnny Trump, hear me Johnny, you're dead meat, a dead me from a 30s movie for. I can't, Johnny all the signs and kill all the signs on the head, in my mind, Locust work again please Locust 531. I didn't yell, call it is sweaty room in medical lab.
I am an alcoholic, wearing a gray dingy mock smock coat, and eyebrows don't meet in the middle. But they come damn close. And by some Robert Plant in a huge huge invasive dirt soil of the desert floor, captured in a mahogany prison; Gloria Graham will be there with her funny lip, her language all study eyes, her gaze the smoky look, her hidden jaw. And she would tell me Lucy Rubens loser now, and I say howdy ya know, keep my mother out of this. She was a swell dame, this is the Ark of the 70s, next week thought there in the 80s. Next, they want the Ark of 2020. When stop was my brain without the secret. Locust Baker did not do it. They're going now, man in moment. Boyz are all and girls are all embarrassed and night their eyes and half lidded sex and lost in Seine. Then I care for reality that every jealous, definite homage, near like a Locust scoops up and here is the unique town of unbearable summer and a winter world of desolation sand by God the sand of this place. It's stupid ideas of night is who has indicated underhanded night of the thought off first. But they left it to me. Me, like he, Lucky. There is one thing for certain. The boys are after me. It's only the doing. Of them, only, they are as dirty as I am. And as unkempt, as poorly dressed and shivery as I, lost in the night call, in the cold. In this corner of alley, what dark let night. Wish I had a light, a smoke, warm place for the night, sunshine of the summer day. But the sun doesn't shine on inverts, that's why they take me around and kick me to use me. Hurt me, because they'd like it, because he gets off, he wished he was his free was like my free. But not free of scared him hiding cold. Oh God, I'm cold, he should find me soon here on the rainy cobblestones the sin world of the Ripper. Smiling cheeky Jack should find a chummy catch in a measly boy, I'll be bound. I suits them and use them. Make them less than saucy. I take my mind into their heads and play with their brains at they put my cock that airs and will be bound to be their mouth , as I finally of game playing but for all. Me the most irregular of the regulars irregulars. How I take it??
Wildebeest healthy a pretty bold one of this time thrust of cock. Let me be the one Jack be the one to have your knife's insanity gleam, okay take my eyes, with Jack's cocked eyebrows and is sorely pain inning thou must service me before I take you young lad.