Ethan Switch - Wednesday, 20 December, 2006 - 23:35:36 - print it raw
Wet is the water on the weather weathering the feather of the nature that breaks a neck with such casual parlance. Feeding and a fuelling, cast offs are driving it all to the edge of the water and when it hits it hits with a slip into a trip that flips the hips.
And snap.

Trapped in the excess of the wrap and a fool for the times of insignificant seconds, the merry and the jolly writhe in contorted pain. Limbs fold in on and over each other, bones, not able to conform to the flow of emotions, break free from the skin and attempt to spread out in any and all directions.
Careful of the rush to lunch. Care for the grunts that crunch.
» Crashing is all part of that Christmas spirit and soul
Fart a dutch oven and keep a fresh and up-to-date eyeball on our latest reviews, articles and filthy somesuch. Ahhh, breathe it.
class=etc
class=grimm
class=grimm
id=vonnegut
For lovers of reviews on music, books and theatre with advice and fiction on life and evolution.
Nipple protection from the elements?
Armpit hair needs a lair?
Bellybutton catching too many flies?
Then grab this comfy chest covering and other kinds of T-shirts at The Wax Sweatshop.