Wednesday, August 21, 2013

"Mental" Notes: Unrelated Sentences.

No explanation necessary. Enjoy.

A giant turkey sandwich balanced between two prostitutes on a giant building that's been evicted by the city.

The most beautiful man in the world strolled into the dry cafe, wafting his long hair around in elliptical, bringing out the boners in every straight male around the block.

A tree scorched by injustice, caving in to the squalor of ineptitude, tasting the nastiest portions of a chicken sandwich that's vomited out by a rabid squirrel.

Wheels spinning out of control, driving away the skin of several pedestrians and only one leper.

A bear with tiny claws ripping apart the package that landed nearby.

The rape to end all rapes.

A bulging pulse that broke into the book depository, breaking every window, floor, and law of physics in one clean swipe.

Mega Man blasted away at the all the robot, tearing them apart bolt by nut, dismantling them each without every lifting a finger.

A tongue infected with disease, bulging out from the lips like someone with their pants around their legs, skipping along with their briefs sticking onto the legs, dignity sapping away from a villain's evil exercise machine.

Big old flopping penis, smacking around the legs in rhythm like the most coordinated ballet dancers, ticking along in a hypnotizing pendulum swing meant to intimidate any suitors like the horniest chrysanthemum that would pollinate it to death.

Earmuffs that powdered your nose at the same time, the gray cloud emitting its own weather patterns like the Coriolis effect, managing the movement of the hemispheres like Galileo on his day off.

A laminated license plate that would trick all but the most incompetent police people, gleaming in the suns with more irritating reflections than a bully's watch directed at the chalkboard of hell, where every teacher who molested their students would go to.

Words of pleasure that had to be defined since Caleb would get the wrong message regarding the word pleasure, always assuming that it was referring to something kinky and hot like a volcano's fishnet legs.

The wimpiest baseball glove, rotting in the dugout scene, the autographed gloves laughing at it with their rough and salty hacks with eyeballs emitting from every cough.

A smashed hood dancing like a newlywed couple at the beach, bodies vibrating at dangerous frequencies, like the most potent nitroglycerin.

Pills sitting on the shelf for days, waiting for the suicidal newspaper writer to chug down at an instant, forgetting the appropriate dosage amount, collapsing to the floor, tongue sticking out, body writhing on the floor.
A gorgeous straw hat placed gently on top of her head, each strand of her hair tying knots into every opening, a red and green ensemble that appealed to the color blind people, whistling obscenities to her at every direction she went.

"Shut up!" said Louis CK, his wonderful bald head exuberating brilliance at every turn, direction, and inconsequential stripper mall, the newest implementation by Larry Flynt to expand his horny enterprise that was surprisingly run by nothing by women since they knew what superficially appealed to men more quickly, leading very prominently to the collapse of the economy due to the amount of surplus being delivered to the stripper malls.

A video game designed by conservatives who aren't against gay marriage where players will have to sit in at every congressional meeting held at the senate so that the young people could understand how difficult it is to maintain your sanity for that many years doing the same mundane tasks and being blamed for holding America back from progress.

A barrel roll to impress other barrel rolls for centuries, the stunt others would have to look up to aspire to if they wanted to aspire to greatness.

A distracting amount of beeps and boops simulating the legendary brown note, paralyzing every driver in the tri-state area who crashes into the nearby gay bars.

A match to determine who would the intercontinental heavyweight undisputed champion, a battle of wits between a table and an plastic chair, the crowd waiting to see who would rust first since they weren't educated enough to know that plastic doesn't rust.

A man complaining about how pathetic his life was to the optimistic woman who just got a promotion in her job, the man's sweat beating from every orifice and landing into her own pores, bewildering her but at the same time calming the man down, allowing him to make the proposal, causing her to weep uncontrollably and die from a stroke.

Oh. That's a bummer, man.

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