An excerpt from something Im working on. Something about you lightly wreaks In the parlour with hints of nautica we beheld your anus -red- as you portrayed it over the years. we looked often at our models -and wheezed- and that was all it took. The breath of stale mummy dustingly exhaled. -to further Juxtapoz a generation gap forgotton in plain day our models often overlooked us as we were much too busy distinguishing ourselves to realize it just blended us further in with the piece we grew-- and grow untill growth stunts progress and Versus traditional common sense... 'tis a fairly rough draft, brutal critiscism encouraged =)
