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Look, I vomited in my mailbox today, no I'm not proud, but it's pertinent, listen...
Void of mail and stomach all gurgly and loud, the voices a high pitch static wash across my frontal lobes; I filched my neighbours corn-free, blood-free, pill-free and insect-free mail. Inside wrapped in cellophane and electrical tape was the darlingest little card, it read:
[[ Dear Slave Meat.
You are invited to pick through the living flesh of the barbelith.
The clientele of this alien neural network are a running gag of genetic weakness evolved until a punch line of grinning sterility. Nomads and junkies get their hair rinsed, cut and curled. Emperors and salarymen diaphanous with new mutant strains of tuberculosis lay on golden pillows filling the air with opium from their pipes. Charlatans and Bisexual amoeba dance in spasmodic seizure. Engineers and pimps construct sexual scaffolding. Thespians and lesbians perform mouthy dialogues of wet cunnilinguist. Homos and handshakes swing from trapeze and walk a tightrope of flesh. Dwarves with wicked claws and impossible knowledge, conjoined twins fucking from the inside out, camp anarchists posing with limp wrists and raised fists, clowns on dissection tables stood over by the followers of obsolete unthinkable gods, sentient terrace housing sending out blind Technicolor feelers to find virginal outlets from which to steal utilities, automata shedding skin for rich illuminati prime, fashion models wrapped in pharmacological couture pouting at the surveillance cameras, undead abortions climbing the legs of their dear mothers, albinos cooking under strobe lights and animals speaking the language of man with strained vocal chords. The freaks and geeks are all in quorum and everyone is invited.
Fucks Sake.
- Satan ]]
Sounds like my kinda shindig.
All about making out with the elderly, Baudrillard in drag and detonator theory, right?
Could I get a summary so I don't hafta buy the cliff notes?
Fucks sake.
- Crimes_Of_Fashion : Bastard Lord Of The Philistines |
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