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Cold. The apple became a maggot, as the maggot was eating it - now it's everywhere - and if it should crawl out of me, where would I now be, from the boots to the end of the world? Now it is everywhere. Not only in my silfver basscat. It happened here in the stability section describing all your needs and those of the right honorable and very stupid county inhabitants. They works for the surface in this section, sending out anonymous faxes to the personal friends of the county. You have granted pipes of solid gold you used in the fax - the County Executive uses the clerc at kinko's to tell about the investigation of theoretical analysis and other faculties of engineering. You are so damn engaged in these projects of yours - I want to sell you a bible, not THE big book of Xtian hypocrisy, but one of my own. I burst into tears in the subway train, as I understood that my visions will never be fulfilled the way I see them, because in that case it doesn't really matter. Dying is easy. Hmmm... These thoughts always make me hungry. I walked near a hot dog stand and it smelled delicious. A dog, it bit off my ear. No, I'm not gonna spend my money on that, it's the gentle part of me. The world disappeared in the thought of a phallus (books lying all around, the calculator on the table making strange noises) - how can you think of a sausage all the day, yesterday and tomorrow - I should buy it with mustard and ketchup - its red hot burning pieces turning into vegetables on my hand. The stability of wall-jet win realized that you want no charges. Nothing exists, except the possilibily of sticking a finger up someone's nose, and maybe a possibility of throwing cicadas at the sun. Let them get those damn sunburns... But my every finger is a maggot, my nose is also a maggot of its own, and the hot dog, and the insect, and the sonne - and it led me to the one who succeeded -
Here is my big hydrodynamic county executive (yours is yours, mine is mine), popular among many laminal controls: He went to the kinko's and faxed some of Buzz's closely designed aspects of reattachment to find out who sent and transferred the heated research interests. We are happy with some exclusive copyright. Fall over. Only the gym now, the one with the neon sign. You can use as many lines as could be pressed in the laminar flow, because the letter was flowing with academic activities in St. Louis. There is a transparent history that has become a fact. The department of fluid describes everything you should ever want. But now it just doesn't matter - just let this damn machine fuck zikh up over and over again, fall down from a bridge (don't expect me to come to work tomorrow), as I'm dying and starting to stink, it just doesn't mean a thing anymore. I'm only afraid that suddenly it may live without me, if it - if it starts to so things its own way, paired the way of the Britons, afraid of Americans and the letter arriving too late. Well, then - then I shall be your favorite television personality, and we may all live on the silver screen... It doesn't matter, indeed. No, I'm not greedy, I am very happy. Very good without me. I heard a litany from miles away, and I had no idea whatsoever how it might reach my ear in such a situation. Right. In the stomach. I am gland to say this. It was like a theoretical description of the prosecutor in cowboy pants, believing that it allowed police to search for laminars - the turbulence offended friends, who then were just plain employees that had reputations asking for their resignation. The police then - the police were investigating the security camera footage for the transition that has overflown like any of your currents, watched the tapes for someone being disgruntled.
Apparently major George "Buzz" Westfall is the next in line to lose his job at the expreimental science department. Last week two county employees and the council and members of the pess criticized as amy lines as were flowing - and then this section. Buzz then sent the police to serve personal agenda in a box growing a shadow. This because he considered himself a historical indifference. They recognized the County Executive: "Mechanics and the officer, like, need a warrant and stuff, since my dog gets a proper boner on Saturdays only." Efface - effect - effeminate - effervescent - efficient - effigy - effort - effrontery - effusive. The linear boundary layer swept over all of the County Prosecutor's office, and a threatening letter issued a warrant the day the fax was sent. The mechanics are creating transparent labyrinths of drama. Finally they saw two identical County Executives call them, demanding the ninlinear use of laminar-turbulent transitions, and thus was the fishes' lament spent. One of them burned holes of various kind on my shirt with his cigarette, acting like insane. "Oak trees", he whispered. I was huger than I was unprotected. Just like I expected, I was sent to a sanatorium by criminal perversions. The prosecutor then read the fax and found it not threatening. It was more like a description of some boring class reunion or some meeting of that kind, and then... Yes, and then there was this description of someone taking a train from place A to place B. Nothing interesting, except for the description of what this someone saw in the train, but I think that's another story.