IRC-Galleria

The window is open
The temperature's rising
My nipples are soft as marshmellows.
The tiger of Aratwa has promised to keep
His teeth from touching the cream.
Did you forget the possibility of a new cloud forming
Next morning, if you choose to wake up?
Your enemies are calling, please answer the phone
It's your daughter and her thirteen dogs.
Marvellous shmudge, glutch hotchkiss keiv land
My meeting makes sense in a comical way
Your sister is now out of the way
So let's kiss and jizz.

Every time the floor falls down
My magic is slightly enhanced.
It flows through my fingers
Into small glass-containers
Made of sugar, Harry Potter and ash.
Heavenly heights and hellish lows
But a balance, nevertheless
These ants in their suits
Have cost me a fortune in shrooms
Mistake after success
And your life shall be clear.

Couldn't you hear me? I said;
"Balvidor meiv floan len shoodum sen mort."