Believe it or not, this is better than the alternative, swirling irrational fears concluded by a senseless bullet in the head.
Little did Morton Saltzberg realize, overnight, in a deep sleep, he transformed and woke up as an anomaly. If he had been conscious of the metamorphosis, he would have been ecstatic. He had long desired to deviate from what his peers deemed standard.
After the appropriate of time has passed, I hope it is no longer too soon to use this diss: Walk much, F.D.R.?
For three straight days, Rhiannon was isolated by her peers. They could not find it in their hearts to forgive her for dust cropping at the Lollapalooza. She should have known better. Don’t eat Indian food from a grease covered truck.
Whatever happened to J-Kwon? Whatever happened to decency? Whatever happened to tomatoes? Who died, and made him regency? I can’t even begin to answer any of these questions without referencing the “deep state”. In a post-ironic, post-truth world, what if Trump is the only who is sane?
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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