Saturday, October 22, 2011

Thousand: Five Hundred Thirty-Nine

States? Isn’t that what it’s called now? In this case you’d be the priest and I’d be the child mo, I mean, I’d be the superior. Uh. After the pyromaniac tells his psychiatrist that he’s hankering to see the manes of the merry-go-round horses red with flame, the psychiatrist places an anonymous call to the halfway house where the pyromaniac sleeps every night since he was released from prison and. In this case you’d be the merry-go-round horse and I save you by strapping the pyro to his bed. And you thank me by spilling all about. About. You know.

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