Thursday, October 16, 2003
Release the hounds on the dung pile of reviling stench. Pinch my brain wave and push save on the grave of a mattadoor. A land sore always dodging the bulls and dodging the rules and dodging like fools from rotten tomatoes. Radios and Shock Jocks talk big talks on things dark and the moon catches midnight by surprise. I advise that the lives of the scribes be taken seriously. Reversely laugh at the illiterate illegitimate children of time. Crime after crime committed out of wedlock leads to deadlock. Expect the infamous to distance their legacy form their relentless purist of nothingness.