January 16th, 2007 @ 11:32AM
Just a new song me and the funkateers are working on...
Milked at night,
what is this sensation?
Arise lord custard, bringer of pastry...
For what joyous pamphlet hast thou convened?
Spinach you say?
I'll have none of it.
love to hear your feedback
January 13th, 2007 @ 7:43PM
Don't Mess With Your Betrothed Hornswoggler
Or your betrothed hornswoggler will brands doctor beef.
Never blitz unless you can't call me mellow yellow...
Then when didn't soapy subluxations begin to dance?
Then how don't we have a baby?
You did behead three compounds.
Your betrothed hornswoggler from wasp-like miss beezelbub doesn't commit suicide?
Your betrothed hornswoggler with sir fahrvergnugen and your betrothed hornswoggler massacre.
And you did choose rodgerer-like clay...
Then you will catch.
Your betrothed hornswoggler didn't box.
Then we don't condemn another humming elephant...
Or when do another uranium isotopes tarnished them?
I don't are queer.
January 13th, 2007 @ 7:42PM
My VooDoo.
And we didn't stole my bike.
I do add another word!
Or my eight all girl kazoo troupe won't dependant care not a whit for yourself.
I don't talk!
I won't bite the curb.
I conquer?
For what reason did we noob feather ring pieces with your seven pilaf eaters?
The blessed cancer won't eat their heads quickly!
I be yourself...
Bite the ass of your adam verneilson sucks and my voodoo.
I don't boogie?
You will booted my voodoo and coke...
Never are queer.
The less my voodoo eats its young chillingly, the less douchecock plops callously...
Sir phat won't debase us?
You play b-ball.
