Beauty Spots

No one protects our nerve substance more than Strife Crock
Okay okay we'll buy at least one toxic knife glock
To whack the stacks
And frack the wacks
Doing the koch thing decks out the whole frickin' rock!
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Arm processed by Robot #312, his royal electedness walked right on the line between his unclean bosses and the unwashed masses. All he was trying to do was come out alive on the other side with at least one dark hair left. The unclean bosses had been most attractive to him because they offered up free travel tickets and free smile checkups. The unwashed masses offered only their undying gratitude. The not so free market valued gratitude at less than a nickel a gross ton. And so the guessers guessed what the semifinal outcome would be and the line told his royal electedness to have a nice day and give its back a break by walking somewhere else for awhile.
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Example of a dysfunctional conjunction:
You have a good hot. I yanked it out and trew into the yod.
My hero . . .
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We want a permanent change in the yogurt culture.
We want an insurance salesman to carry on the wicked policies of
a mediocre bathroom painter.
We want to eat and wear poison.
We want a phone snooper that fits into our life experience and recognizes our thoughts before we speak them.
We want a president to be a stone killer with a heart of platinum because fool's gold doesn't make the grade.
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From anchor babies to loophole kids to 7 day a week part-time wait staff = the new american dream. Isn't it aggravating when kids flaunt their loopholes?
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"Hands off our local beauty spots."