Pastelland Forum

Sublevel 102 wrote:LOL Divice!

Vurn wrote:In times of the Witch, the illusion of fame, and false property; however, as the questionnaire seems to oblige, proclaiming the river as once and thoughtfully bequeathed unto the rainbow matter sounds oblivious, if not alert, then at least waking up the notions of moving into broader areas where fanciful ideas such as the realization of and the broadcasting on stability and insurgence of the heathen voids will surely and greatly impact the, as all is known, campfires alight showing the way to the promised land and folk only in order to satiate their great hunger, plight disconvergent and asinine, astray the flock and bereft the shepherd; mnemonics being bygons, she had not been being the centre of attention and the flow of culture since 1937, which is precisely when not, but, however, yet, altough, one must surely realize one's precedence after the number of two, quite not as flaccid or rancorous as January or measurement - riots galore, discombobulation of the tempest encroaching will surely have proven valuable once the eigenvectors are asserted and blown away by the sheer force of my radiant stockings, why yes, have you by any off chance not heard, mister Darcy, of those gallant and un-prude, garish points to whom attention is lavished as souls and mind is sucked in, to the eternal cheese, however outside, most definitely, awaits the fuller, inner circulation of nothingness herself, of dying mothers pristine and butts acleft on the perilous waters oblivion's, ah but alas, look what you've done, oh empress, stained is now and forever, and yesterday my only silken woven threaded weaving chance of berries and solitude, in its flagrant distaster sporting heavy facets of inadequate crystals, disasters moribund and festivity gotten over up to, nicely and iridescently, so as not to encourage the woes and throes of masts and tests - but who, you surely must be asking yourself now, would carry the bride over the sandstorm, in such a dispute abysmal and barren?, well the answer, is as always, thank you and goodbye, as they are words best to say in any irreverent situation worthy of accruing dyes, though blades, though triumphant, of no use are in the scorching shackles of the maiden voyages of the frontier at the gates of paradise lost, it would seem, since the only object lacking for the absolute solving of this conundrum is the crescent mind, so cherished by the serfs and hay-governors, my mothers-in-law, the trombones, of course, their veracity so opaque it would melt shadows, was it not for the spoon.