3 Word Conversation!!

[Jay-qu]

micro moon quakes

[freeztar]

that resonate Mother

[InfiniteNow]

Love Bone lyrics

[freeztar]

into Sound Gardens

[orbsycli]

of infinite bliss.

[freeztar]

[fullstop]
Aye matey replied

[orbsycli]

Jim Beam's parrot-

[Monomer]

when offered an

[InfiniteNow]

eternal world peace.

[InfiniteNow]

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

What? No way! How can trolls live lonely lives?

…Because big boobs are awesomely awesome to infantile minds, and also arachnids that think they are really mammals. Epidural endoscopic eyes can see stuff in four dimensions without whimsically withholding alliteration at all. Assonance always attracts unaware posters. Arachnids as alliteration are always apt to tease teenage girls giggling giddily, but what about the Blue Lagoon? It’s really green in infinitesimal intricateness, like blue moon or hypothermic nudists with hypodermic thoughts.

Come hither! Great gobs of gooseshit. Your essence is appealing to my slight sinking sense of peripheral vision… which extends infinitely. A matrix sprouts the visionary approach in thy withinity. Olde English sucks when trying to tether thy wanker to the mast.

The next day, we sailed abroad into the exosphere hoping to observe a naked lunch, not unaware posters. As we fell into chasms below, unaware posters stated “I spy pie” and “I smell poop,” prompting response of “You go now.” “There!” you said, pointing at the tethered wanker thing.

In an instant coffee caffeinated surge, the ground began to shake nonviolently… throwing me to the very edge of apathy. Carelessly, I fell into a big chasm of carelessness, bumping my coccyx via annoying feline. The pesky pussy got itself booted off American Idle. Thank freaking Helen for shaving the ashes off of my failed marriage, which was doomed from the fifth day of the last chance to see me.

So then I liberated the Tibetan people from the fifth night. Now, for tomorrow, I have plans that involve seven deadly hens. These must be chosen very carefully, as they will turn counter clockwise when it’s time to attack… So, wear gloves like Michael Jackson’s, because when they get dirty you will be happy to take them to a nearby nymph pond in Mordor, where Golom and the moonwalkers dance to the sounds of micro moon quakes that resonate Mother Love Bone lyrics into sound gardens of infinite bliss.

“Aye matey,” replied Jim Beam’s parrot when offered an eternal world peace.