Canal-Side

I always feel I should have images but no longer make them. This is not one.

The last amazed link-up contaminated slingshot thyroid bumpy lactating ping-pong hydrangea blinking gorseberry bluechip poop. Butter setting the highway gently down amongst the yeast fields. Irrigation is one. Any time. I think the terminal muscle has slipped its necktie off and hurled it into a tub of sentient hair.

Really I didn't think you had it in you.

Blasted catacomb jumpy and entirely underrated, a blimp in the shape of cucumber assembly-line leapfrog and silvery grassroots cat-nip tricycles. Venting is one. After which follows a diagramme of some sort. Apple pie. Enthusiastic but not peanut butter. Sixteen. Why not. Yeast. I think.

crayons?

The tray you position in front of it. Cream, road signs ventricle blastoff. Viordsmirch is not one. Cylinder is one. Viper is one. Loop is one. Lustily is one. Whipped is one. Veranda porcupine is two. Remote is one. Dromedary is one. From is one. blorchiantrix is not one. Reading is one. Burst is one. Heated is one. Slicnorch gassy is one but not two. Bled is one. Shrinking is one. Except is one. Bringing hatstand cuticle flamethrower.

Moustache is one too.