to my detriment, I suffer; to my ego, I roar
“We are witnessing America as a failed social experiment”
I think it be if from libation for which I blew Reveille to arise, and once awake, do calumny, unless devised from above, Caesura -- knifeproof earmuffs
unrecoverable of answer upon hearing it as intended, the words once did flow freely, now rebel. rake you for not hearing about bloodbucket barfights,drinking Coors, and Mexicans -- impossible to plod, outline invalid.
this gang of a song is like dancing to Architecture, but these Skyscrapers scrape first and deep; there's an homage to Van Gogh, whose detachment so credible, something surgical comes this way, then it's over, and their melee, bombastic; soft spoken after the fact, the facts of life are
Si, si ustedes hacer ambulantes a la hospital y obtener medicame
Unrecoverable, inventing genre, mind blown, changes game, like Samuel Fuller directing the Bard whose Leer's madness, thespian exemplar of non-method acting sent Dustin round the bend, so his breathing would quicken, and Sir Lawrence packin' on Carson, said Sir Larry to Dustin, "Why didn't you just act winded?"
Sympathy, non-effusive, call not quite for action, backstabbing hooligans Yard-shank redemption, good movies it make it.
Yard sharp fast, repeated, rampant from above, redeeming, remedied, remonstrate.
blood in blood-out lifers ain't sticklers for downtime; it's a code, for one, and One For All -- Homey got the command, holy frijoles, but suckas wanna kill.
by end of this day will the newspaper report:
to my detriment, I suffer; to my ego, I roar
Come Nortes and chollos and Cartel's Crypts and Bloods, and Shemales on C-block.
this wheel's on fire, and the CO just bit it, and homeboy got keys and the joint is exploded and no one wants to leave on account of the COVID,
but we do, cuz to stay would be Syndrome in Stockholm and a shrink ain't our shit,
club: one two three. Shank three, four. Thoughts on the George Floyd Riots
today: shamrock = lily; Erin = Freedom.
Perhaps in trying to make Benetton look old-fashioned by adding a few shades into the mix, Dr. Hue and Mrs. Pantone have interfered with the regular business of priority and choices, or perhaps you would say, that that is your choice.
Your Mission Statement is admirable; your product, while buggy, is fine -- but note the order in which the two points are delineated, without consideration on my part until now; and remember that before all of his sexual assaults, and a peculiarly adamant interest in being the entire advertising department, American Apparel used to be in the business of just trying to sell slutty socks.
In your dream of laudatory inclusiveness in the good service of presenting successful, relevant, socially inclusive diversity, you may have forgotten the end user, whose necessity of 15-second videoclips, though unknown, can be authoritatively proven to not be likely of fomenting revolution through third-party platform provider / host -- not quite platform; no intrasocial network currently adjoining creators with each other, except in rudimentary tacitness.
The safe space where signifier appeals prefers creators to users, but signifier, or signifee (e.g., user = tree), signified as, concept of the thing (e.g., idea of a tree), and sign; object combines signifier and signified into meaningful outcome: something like a tree on which your brand may depend.
