Wishbourne Identmeaty: Beating Off to Tupac’s Sister-bin Sex-blenders
Time for some gritting? These Tomes Four, soon to grip ALL bintshipping news! Weezy Stoma is a pawn shop on Tu-Grip Alley. Got those mint-fish-piffing blues. Whem was we? Weasy now; s’tones and ice and a piffing prawns-wop, clothed in a Tupac fracppé! Got a lite, whose milsetone is a simpering pish-fipping blaise? “Wem is the home of the washboard-meat!” we all said at the time, but now… M’boner’s annex is bland, next to piff-pornshop-toast. Tu-ching Cloth-Pac is a touchcloth rapper pack, but Stoma Lychee Whore is my stoner-rock band’s simpletonic piss-kickflip monikernnaise? W’betide thee that miss the homage of the wishbourne identmeaty - it wexists in a wall-encsased stshit, whencefrom it times the bum-tonality of the PoxPoxPox. Y’born sorrow’er, sanded in a sex-blender! Next you’ll be pawing at the Piff-referee (eating a poon-shaped tush). S’got tu chafe something uncouth, uncandid and clotted, all pacced into one oozy voucher for the de-clothed; a get out of rap free poke! Better yet (though under t’aint) is a stemen for maw, a litmus for HAW and an ism for yr stoop-nomer-sedimis’. Banned? Simply tap Tapp O’Nick’s piece, and he’ll cook up a flan you’ll never go under in Knicker Ally eves. I wet the bed three twatting times - and missed. Thee Homos oft wished ‘pon a w’betode meaty bedtime twixt two sisters-bins. I am well-endowed. Shit. Wednesdorm bedsits I mess, with my bumlog totality - I go POO POO POO. Wyclef and the Borrowers handed over the ex-boyfriend to Tupac and the Nixt Yule-Log Porridge-wearers - thus upholding the Daniel Piff effigy (Daniel Piffigy). Beating off to the Carpoon Netshop, Weezy Tush, Scott too did visit Chafé café. Bum-ping into cuntish youf like Daniel’s Uncle Dad made us cavort and pace, whilst dining in Bum Bafé (one of the Best de-touchclothed voucher spafés). Get out, thee of crap-freé POÓ(kemon)! I Can’t Believe It’s Not Better - from the thrown Pokéball comes T’aint Hog, evolving into Semen “Roger” Moore. Abbey Quitmus must acquit four horny ancestors for an isophoric posed poo to misbrannigan “Simply Red” as “Pok É’Micholas Pisstopher”. Anthill-brooks, cup-a-flans, Yule-Never P-Orridge: these heavenly OK Go Unders innately align such thieves.
