The obliterations

The obliterations

Getting a base outside our

Ever expanding realm.

Do you think the high commander

Hasn’t felt as important

In most aspects of his life

When there is nothing,

Little doing,

The big words roll out.

Today I am thankful

And yet I don’t understand the lack of

Wordplay from socializers.

It’s like you’re on there to be berated

And I still was applying my case to your side.

But it’s unusual,

For a man cheerleader

To pump guns

And win the war for the abused women

In every country I’ve studied

This yearly focus is clearly south Africa

Black ass mamba.

I feel stout.

Compressed

The extra three inches of dick,

I tell you, isn’t really required for you.

So maybe if you just like the sweet meaty flavor

And it sounds like fucking after dessert.

Let’s Christen the place

In honor of the world’s four stars.

The honor guard they left me in charge of

Is completely just like the regular armed services

With enough supporters

To, not eliminate,

The watershed

But to leave tears of joy in our men’s hearts

And the ptsd would wither away

And your day of fate

Seems more to me than you,

When my actions are merely my fingers transferring thought

At the speed of

Regularity

But fuck you guys, I’m eatin’ wheton’

The dark side of ales from whales.

Natural flavor added

Uuh, that distinct salt fire

Came from kurt’s nuts

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