Thank you, Eli, for that warm and tender introduction. Your words have humped the folds of my heart. Or, did they fump the holds of my fart? In any case, my panties are moist.
I used to live in the sweaty breast-folds of antiquity. Now, after bursting forth from the labia of my subconscious, I can finally taste the nectar of tumidity. I am the meninges. I am the pons. There is a vas deferens between muscle and appetite, a meta-world of tubes, mcconaugheys, and fluttering mandy barftwats. I am the sperm banker that suckles the bailout milk from the tit of the capitalist scrodum. I am your swollen balls to bare (the balls of a bear?), your dangling albatross of aristocracy. But no matter how swiftly they sperm-churn, they will never bling you down.
Your creed is solid, but soft enough to leave a creed stain on my heartpanties. Excuse me while I launder my psyche. E.
ReplyDeletei either want to slap you or shake your hand. awesome. awesome. welcome. "my nipples are at attention, general malkovich."
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