in freshets of aquamarine ectoplasm, under bioluminescent steam from earthgills, whorled counterclockwise in relation to reversed time with a radical skew, floating Mobius and whimsical in three fifth time on the sixth Sunday of cataclysmic catechism just west of the Tropic of Eeyore, resides a dimly illuminated quiver of eels, all with one blue-flecked eye on the west hand side... youd never guess it by looking at them, but they are the Lords of Poke.
Posted on: Wed, 05 Nov 2014 02:08:14 +0000
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