Grease God Weekly — Chapter V

Here again, the white sheets are not it, the new ink on my seventh smiling skin certainly squeaks and smells all over sophisticated soaping of salty and striking soup kitchens small kittens writtens and saids and spoken broken cloaking and stroking the shit out of the witted fool covered in drool smelling like gruel listening to Zeuhl his beard is large Bart Homer Marge Arine ballerine wording like a William pick your poison B or S or another W the police is here Andy Weir the rear of my closet has all my stash it’s not hash a splash on my face you alive in so much trouble broom and whiskey what if we do everything prometaphase enzyme separase allowing the sisters to think about backlist numbers mais vraiment c’est Jaques Kennedy qui pense que touts les hommes doivent se pignouffer toujours, le cancer est le resultat de la replication constant des petits celles screaming child all around the tying shoes of the benign tumor and then you’re ready to walk around but I don’t know there’s a bench that is another one I always sit there Jamie has a list of smarter watches that only work on eight generation skins John is four or five years older, his head is bigger, give me your boat and a music from a bad place comes into the ears sound again is bad bad it’s not the good sound anymore, save people who want it how is everyone they are naturals of cycles and a police car doing a slide with red flashing and forcing a glass door and eyes looking at a screen with a big F on it and classification peering over the cubicle and printer, the 20913 is calling happiness a falseness of the hospital, buses are crashing difficulty the batter is in backwards, and it can’t be left backwards there’s a spreading tumor and a punk kid is spread around the El Paso it is a complex process in the water it is quite unstoppable but the securality is calling once and twice again twice a pain it goes into a blood vessel for a few hours and the bookmark was on the wrong antique Colleen Hoover page, that book cost me so much money since paper is so expensive, and all of her revolutionary words are locked in the cages of 251210 bragging all to the other revolting masters gone with the times, it’s depressing that there is nobody to stand up to insecurality and impatience she’s going crazy and the notes are being taken, someone will leave them alone, it is horrible very disgusting the old father and the young son both unrelated have a fight in water bound land and there is a button in case of emergency to turn the son into a flying beast with Orange Soda wings, the Fanta Fenix, sponsored by New Berlin, WI it is the most significant suburb in the year of the century this is the word, the only word ever, the truest word you have heard since you ex utero, the truest word to have been seen by your eyes or smelled by your bleeding nostril, no semicolon the real true.