Soapstain

tyson

—earbeard

a poem, in audio 

hellodmitri:

Quatuor d’Adjani:
The Tenant (Polanski, ‘76)
The Driver (Hill, ‘78)
Nosferatu (Herzog, ‘79)
Possession (Zulawski ‘81)

(Source: henridecorinth, via aleskot)

brrzzzdq

Alternate trash-bag nude brrzzzdq epic 3D grooves, the 6tht eww’s lava Elohim.
Vanity plates ENRON-tucked into rare laundry via an osmosis of 90s nostalgia.
Contortion irrigates those wars as, with a whot-tching kack-a-loo-LOL, the Justice League rollercoasts bed-wetter cannibal piping.
A wooded ear is known as “earbeard” to your cellophane-like 098sfrj! A charming dwarf can withstand this prop, probably.
Just as McNuggets can curse their own ghastly pouch, my rat bone pounces like daggers in the dust.
Nobody in their right dradzd expected a poltergeist’s solenoid to self-immolate with as much barf :)
Praying for the deadly glockenspiel of Satan to sideboob slarving neo-Nazis cross-court the whole drab o-fuckit.
Before undead orgasms can parkour my backyard to bulging qwidge.
Snakes still fatsquatch macabre, leapfrogging the milkshake in the erf.
Pervy, we stand in the giraffe-aurora and splat scrabbling swag.
Selfied into deep, interesting singularity with a pungent virus anti-poky.
Washed up, candle-lipped ghost-branches trepan the parking meter.
Like a playground cephalopod simmering schizophrenic, prong-piz self-healing.
Birds slumming that mortal coil, augmented with nails, springs, 48d4i30ck!!!!!!, etc.
A mausoleum piled dense with tiles of alien-graved sticky toaster.
Unreal robotic arm snailing portable deadman’s dopamine the square root of trovjzjgled. 

Swans’ own personal bubbling-up bummed a doily to death today,

dogman nipples draped in Ferengi pinholes, schmaltzy gnaw humanizing

immersive flog, a zillion stinky butts embossed alive, skinned by axiomatic

fingerbanger tangentially shredding id outskirts-ward, burning my face as

with a pragmatic moo I shart ancient curses clustered like sonic vapor on black,

carcinogens the Mixologist’s enigmatic cardboard wolfs parallel

with its own conductivity’s grim zipper, muddied arm exploding in slipstreams

of airhead-kickstarted vacuum cleaner, tearing through zits

on the walls because that’s how my precious mess flares: in alphabetical

order, in a noose, like a welcoming committee’s howitzer

shooting the shit today for you, sir.

The mindblowing sponge of snowboarder-crotch. A cute floating pumpkin.
Conflating a missing cereal box character and its cozy blog-surface.
Higher. Deteriorating from a tacit RPG into a cocain-fueled FAQ.
In fact, Martians routinely shit in their beautiful, steam-powered sitcoms.
Fan cadavers with money. Peel Skype’s egg-viewpoint.
Everywhere, Jesus dams up in jugs.
Winter-bloodstains, turned to dust on eerie pizza-excerpts; powdered anxiety, defacing the sasquatch-door…
The fishmen and the fishwomen won’t weaponize weed today. With a silly computer.
In fables, a boozy Friday the 13th is a metaphorical bad hair day for bad white males.
Uh, the galaxy’s at the barber –
Astringents drip into galaxy-follicles … a new, bald white whale!
Screams. Squeezed-star pus.
Lab-grown Lego as alternate KFC.
As an outlet for hatred, RoboCop Wilhelm-screams, in general.
Christmas-lasers maul a family at the mall, in particular. 
The shape hiding amid cuddling clowns
does not exist, only the molecules
worded into agony
The specter of the victim caterpillars up its own skeleton’s ass
Ingredients baking in a hot dinosaur-pile
Sexts toughened by the gang-life of metaphor
Nipples twitching from ingesting the narrative
Watching nachos through that low-res gasoline, baby
Sooooooo much uncomfortable code
As the Marvel goat chews a large placebo made of horseshit,
fangirls breathe in its underground personal space through the cereal-scape
Forks balloon like birds, like blood, in a bizarre pinball aftermath
Dangerous fly-pixels haunt James Franco’s shit-canvas
Skin, metal, me –
An afflicted firefly lounging on digital furniture
The mesmerizing neighborhood curse foreshadowed by NASA’s old psychic slime
White mice that turn everything into triangles grab my ADHD
In the dilapidated dawn, crocodiles poop hard green cookies
I awaken from overdose 
An onboard throat controls the Muppets.
Alien jungles sewn together behind sharp little teeth
with electronic cigarette butts fluff up every jet of fake breath.
Your browser jerk-scrolls its darker side’s dick.
Urban wrestling frayed my exo-dinosaur into its component algae.
The mass of the fast-food thrown at the toilet
corresponds to the mass of 3-D printed Zen.
REM cake-flies jazz up the town’s sleep paralysis.
Surgical bloodstains pack a giant GIF
but aesthetically suffer from the occult glare.
What was merely thought to be Cinderella crying in a dumpster
turned out actually to be the Third Reich forging apps
from exploded urine in a jar. I now have an app for
a void shaped like the Exorcist’s reflective horse.
Woolly needs perpetuate Bitcoins on chaotic pimp paper.
The space photos astronomers like to show us are cries for help.