Semiotic rifle, spoonful of trifle, we carry our cups to the dishwasher, rinsed, tossed, sealed, it's a cutlery holocaust. Tempers flare, totally tequila, bees in bonnets, nightmare sonnets:
Of his soul, it is dead, he buried it quickly with strokes of lead.
Bottle vapour is tough, but you'll be so high when you dig this stuff.
Be careful what you write: it might come true. I've been thinking about that since 2002.
There's no conspiracy - just fear and apathy. The stats are gnats; I count just fine. You can't predict a series in time.
Distrust what you know. You'll thank me later. Defeat him now - a reluctant debater.
Invisible hand removes the deadwood. Capitalism, man, it cuts down redwoods. Public institutions full of private people, bowing hypocritically for posts of unimportance? Inequality erases over time. My neighbour is starving, reeks of slime.
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