My friends are the faces you sit on, licking a profit popsic'. Where food is just a necessity between sitcom watching. Soak up quick image instead of blind marks on papyrus fabric logic: where true-to-dirt perps go incoginant.

Think of Soup Nazi, Empazi project hardcopy. Books will suffer farenheits, quality of life flesh-sliced.

Omega daylight quota, pot-luck lottery info.

Gigapet rapist, internet pedophile disco! Sensationalist function of truth, dirty ass fetish, glass for the local profile. This year's fiscal . . .

Working family: Social Joe.

Bootcamp, rehab, group-home kid, idolized cartoon missile!

Mostly, lonely, plant life . . .

Cement arena scream: we don't listen closely.

#companyflow #1990s #Signal #EL-P