Dormant like a bunch of cellulite lovers, up to here in cake and ginger beer from Spar. We, the angel people with our spiralled accents, play the parts of blurred youths the blurred friendship lines fizzle out- oh wait where did the line go? He scrubbed it out in subtle words "it's ok dawl, och the wee while shall the quine and i dance?" That sort of makeout fest i tried to ignore/avoid it's so easy without the alcohol. I suppose that person who said boys cannot be friends with girls, for the confusion of hormones and sex always kicks in when one soul is lonely and then both their lonely hearts sink to their lower organs. Interspersed hugs similar to slug intercourse (did you see the discovery channel last week?) -swirling in fluorescent goo those houseless snails twirl about the air... But i digress when the real issue of the matter is the matter with me. No control control control lack of control and the overall verdict is: Not quite a dry hump with clothes on. sucked to the tree
