Tuesday, March 01, 2005

This aint yo garbage, traishman

I aint no garbage hugger, fool. Heeee, I'm just an out of towner, got down, no stool. Traishman can, no problem or hassle. I have trash lid for brain, no way to stay sane in my world called trashemonlyken. Watch me watch me stick it in my pocket. You can't, no chance, traishcan no see through. Park man, manyly sam, that's my name in this here place arrrrrrhhhh. When I get the runny poo, I get real scared. There ees no hole een the bottom of thees here cain. Hobble Hobble, that's the way I walk. I once saw a man, two timing my hand for trees or glistening rockets. That's right, no way to match up with that yellow faired-skin porpoise. The damn thing just can't get right:

Porpoise breath, cactus stinger,
lost my way towards my shlinger,
I picked up rucket, I kicked the bucket,
It flew away, phankth again for the clay

There is no way to repay my gorney
He up and bought me a 3 door klorney
amazing feet, without a brissle,
Touchdown pickle!!! HOWOOW von shlickle.
I live in a can...


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