Tuesday, December 22, 2015


Are you red red ready for your whole being to be subsumed by roast chicken? Your lips and eyes and toes will all become roast chicken, with oily, crispy skin, and no sooner have you accepted this new state of being, you will be set upon by dogs and cats and rats and quokkas and armadillos, tearing the delicious chickeny flesh from your bones as you scream in pain. Then you lay there on the concrete, greasy bones twitching, trying to cry but your chickeny tear ducts were chewed off and swallowed by a cute little joey.

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