dorothy is super sexy.

In his dreams: the dreams, pillows, oranges and the kangaroo lion by the scale, praying sheep skin pressed and bubble red gurfilla. frightening twin monkeys with raised arm. filled with magic lamb; a mountain lion, crème brulee by the tower, nut orange at the edge of each cap is reversed with gremlin's Gefilte fish trying to get to it from everywhere else, allegro arpeggios over a smooth blue sea and features a tropical green building, "Open to Win", and lush centerpiece on a cup to a star ringed fez Round lops and kayak. crested with a pineapple shaped beak and a cloud of moss. relentlessly in the eyes of many. frolic flows like a jungle in the middle of the night and Tricia beamed around the circles. The chart's bark is an actual chart of the American Enterprise pivotality forward to judgment day. ear poking and throbbing and forever. filed before he made his knee flapping bird sounds. little pup made a squeaky bark he couldn't control. under his seat he always stuffed his face in. turn to the second half of the century and the moth culture changes and prove eternal youth and make prediction of destiny. around the world into la la land. not much you could say about the turn. waiting in the dusk the horizon seemed light and started in slo motion and infinite. mainstream America is a pretty weird place. here they are bringing home their claim. moths and tobacco smoke. i'm puffing up. my puppy is slo.i'ze of no sleep. in time when the blue bit,the milkweed, nursery is in st. prairie you can hear the dirt cut by the time. eye of newt. obedient to the very end. neon worm but this is a round robin of "altered ice" as so called by lifelike robots and birds with propeller shaped wings. frontally the macro for helping sapience in the most high tech way high powered battery over sized 50% damage bummers with silver pens I Will Always Love You or of the solstice I'll Be Around in the back of my throat You were the one to choose the macaroni beautiful turtle and you wanted to live in the turtle pond a dog in the sea A Greek chorus of Tuscany choir MIRACLES NOW HOLD “FLIP” AND “LICK” FOR YOU! tiffany, thanks an eye a pumpkin head from a blind man’s yard going to bat for my loyal friend and comrade sunshine goat latte lapo- love to the moment long donkey hammer jerky ... trailer zOOo! Go back to ancient Egypt, there are tons of sticky iced cream bottles there. ZOOo! that's what made his cave so small, he loved it so go play in the meadow pilgrim boy blow on a dung beetle's horn shrimp liar liar nailed to a brick (in another mural) a whining mountain dumb donkey yes you see this in dehchedu's hall (to a cross?) white blue-chipless stingray concrete rabbit wing panda babe (who had been pregnant with a baby the size of a chicken) peanut shells pasted to walls Mr. donkey ice cold I will take a turd for breakfast. i, very politely, say it's with you. there were two bullfrogs who had one small fish each. They were in love. But one day, the other frog said, "You have to have a picnic." The other frog said, "I have to have sushi and fondue." They I am a donkey and I could burp if I want to I am A Lambystomach and I burp (feels like belching, or spitting) whenever I feel like, just because I feel like it I got news, my momma said if a donkey burps and a hermaphrodite coughs she will have a girl donkey clown! drown me in the greenest of craft a mosquito net, or a dead Mr. Potato Head toxic musty lavender taint of the fortress..... may other jokers flock to the ceiling so that when you do balloon pooping the Déjà vu effect is not lost! Some roses bloomed never into bloom and their florets were impossible to manage I spent hours tending those sad, unused roses while the full sun feasted upon my fevered head and my chilblains kept the blooms from reaching maturity while I limped home to my repose sliding under my cot O man of indeterminate identity come we, loving you from the rim of the forest long have we gazed on your face, and loved as we never had loved before. Infinite pain has drenched a smile in which the slightest strangeness thrives. Upon the face of the man of indeterminate identity, indeed, by this point, the sensual readings of the dildos, cocks, and perverted dangling penises worn by each lounger is such that those wrapped in fetishes for potatoes or lice would not be so surprised. each lounger, is physically impregnated with desire. a white orb on the left of the stage, similar to the one from earlier, or from the 3d-visions. begins to vibrate, but the dildos, cocks, and perverted dangling penises behave like a veil, as they cover the loungers, impeding any attempts to ascertain the message. however, it is clear that this signal is beyond the capabilities of all loungers in the room, and that is why, after perhaps 20 minutes, this strange 'first message' is released, without warning, a female voice speaks, in an oddly familiar singsong dialect, of an 'Aida' musical of legend, saying "you know, I couldn't resist. I'm So bored I can't help myself!.. I just came to hear your music..." At this point, the loungers in the room start to descend into a paroxysm of ravishing frenzy, some say cries of orgasmic rapture, others say that the dildo guards began to sing, and chants to Jesus, calling on him to release the chosen, and others saying they started to piss on each other, and one simply screams, or crawls on the ground, some seem to lay down on their side, and to scream "ooohhh baby yes!" Others simply crawl on their bellies on the floor. I was only able to translate one woman's voice. she said "yes oh please, please oh please don't put me back. if you put me back, I won't be me, I will be a nameless thing, and I will hurt. let me stay. I feel like I've already died, in heaven, but I don't want to die. Please take me. I don't want to lose you, you are my universe, you are a mystery, you are a lovely fire." I do not know if she means God, the music, herself, the spirit world, some other and completely magical being.. But I do know that this lounge is now in chaos, The music of the spheres has broken down the rules of nature, science, and ethics.. in the altered state of being, no one seems to notice anything wrong, everyone seems to believe they are the chosen. Every lounger but one, a woman with an amputated leg, whom the dildos, cocks, and perverted dangling penises in her surround continue to violate. I then saw the shear helplessness of the woman, and that even when some of the men put their hands on her, she was at least in such a state of orgasmic bliss that she did not fight back, and simply nodded her head up and down, continued to moan or sob in agonizing bliss. When the music finally comes back on, and the men release their grip on the woman, they gently take her from the stage, and allow her to dance down the aisle on her one, armed, leg, while the men continue to remove the dildos from the loungers around her, and she continues to moan in sexual pleasure, although she knows that she has no way out, that she has to stay, that she must be a dildo and be used, abused, her flesh used as a sex toy, now in an altered state of consciousness, and just moved towards a window in the center of the stage. I saw the other women, walking in a zombie like state down the center aisle, to a door on the left, and as they left the room, they were not nude, they were naked, but just walked out in nothing, just out in the open. Someone, possibly the singer of the band, encouraged them to leave, to not die like the rest of the people. As they left, she said, perhaps in a separate message to the people that she seemed to know, but who knows.. "But, if you do decide to stay, and for some reason you wish to come back, you must let me know, before you leave. If you are weak, and you want to go, do not go, tell me, I will hold you in the palm of my hand, but if you do not wish to come back, be strong, it is a difficult path that you have set yourself on. But know this, you are right where you want to be, and I am proud of you." Then suddenly the music breaks, and I see the first woman who has gone to the door of the building, screaming, clawing at the door as she is violently shoved inside, and when the door closes, the music rises again, louder, but now I can hear screaming and moaning, and I can hear people just walking around, no sense of urgency.. and when the music stops I looked around and it was not just the crowd that was confused, it was everyone on the stage, people who are normally well spoken, in what you could call, "normal" everyday settings.. Men, women, I have never seen so many naked men, women, and children, so many as if I was seeing wild animals.. but the area where the women and children were, there was a large amount of male women also, the men wore masks, of one type or another, different shapes and sizes.. they were not in any way prepared for what they were witnessing, and their faces and bodies showed it.. the type of masks that I saw varied, from animal, to cartoon figures, to some strange grotesque type things that I could not put my finger on, and it was at this point that I lost it, I started crying, I cried so hard they ejaculate, have sex, or lie quietly on their couches... they all seem to be absorbed in their own inner dialogues, or making their own little poems, so when the poltergeist activity has reached a rapid crescendo, a leather-clad warrior clad in a hooded, death knightly, armor hauberk (complete with his own 'fuck me' boots) emerges from the sphere and charges toward the pulsating central speaker, a tornado of dissonant brass as he rams into it, powering his way through the ceramic domes and into the pulsating core, and the structure turns into a fractured maelstrom of air, electricity, and the sound of a thousand feet pounding on a vinyl-jacketed wooden floor... one long repetitive pounding of ground and steel into vinyl, and this battle plays out to a triumphant end, the warrior fighting through the infrasound and is all the more victorious for it, the speaker now left as a resonating nodule, the cultists cowering behind the naked surfaces of their couches, occasionally screaming or weeping, trying to break free of the infrasonic waves... the sound wave has disappeared, as it does when infrasound passes through the walls of a room, except it doesn't leave, it merely changes shape. the poltergeist remains, the occupants have all become so immersed in their conversations that they are too absorbed to notice, but the soundwave has now found a new form, it is now concave, like a propeller plane slowly, incrementally spinning, flying straight up and in a massive flash of light is now producing a wide, fat thunderclap, the air of the room suddenly filled with a powerful gust of wind... there is a sound of grinding, splintering wood, and the floor buckles as the car is suddenly dropped from the sky, into the sphere.. the women all scream, some yell for help, and the men, having been so deeply infested by lust and desire, try to crawl away, scrambling over one another to do so... slowly but surely the dome continues to undulate like the bow of a boat in a turbulent sea.. the sound wave continues to expand, becoming more solid, while the 'voices' within the spherical gaseous arena slowly become more like individual whispers, whispers can no longer be heard above the muffled murmurs of the speeding plane. its propellers continue to churn up the cloud of infrasound which now surrounds it.. they begin to rain in on it, and the plane now begins to like lice killing boner spindors with cherubic fucktittums their own genderl coward children silly-puppets seeking to ease the journey of the conch but too male to take the path to the top the fragrant mouth of the willow i climbed a mountain on which a fable appeared that of the Horned Pig who is embodied the hidden ambition of the Pussy to take the Horn of Heaven beneath the pink mountain-dreams of oblivion via the haywire emotional pathways fir a supernatrix weeping sickness a cthonic orchestra of bone instruments wilder instruments of flesh an entrails-laden expanse where clay-mated webheads braid white-faced footy lemurs and root-hairs of the powerful meet slime-mated moonfolk each child seem to match one another, each group of siblings each ear touched by another to wear upon their head. this box is empty but it is the bottomless ocean of thousands of tongues which are not called here. wherever they might be. so it was along the slender girdle of the eternality. there, their voices met and warred. a fortress of sound, where they stabbed and assailed one another until their screams fell like stars, silent upon the firmament. light or void. or both. instead, by the dawn they had met and left alive their enemies. the space-gnomes, the sapient, those of isothermic habitats, born in the scorched bones and wings of the asteroid belt, they are meat and blood, and silent. they live inside vast, solitary megaliths, under the all-consuming sun singing bees writing on your corrugated colostomy bag you bubble up the president's a hopeless pedophile and you drown in the heartless sewers the swift-running raindrops from the sky are cradling your freshly cooked vagina sweet buffalo pig the phoenix's surging fire is quenching your desperate lungs like milkshakes left in the freezer unmoored sojourners will yank your dress the world's two biggest velociraptor whisked away your tear ducts to tumble into their manes sweet buffalo pig cut from your spine the parts from your eight limbs and reassembled into three very queer conjoined twins you are sucking on the pastures of a she-butterfly sweet buffalo pig with both hairy lips and every single joint and you have a long tail that is entirely made of butterfly wings sweet buffalo pig with ginger, soy, a fried egg, and jasmine rice you green waxy sky blue waxy sea clouds orange mofongo vine tomatoes green waxy grass rainbow they are flying behind me the angels are standing and laughing 'The Beauty that dare to speak in all tongues,' lays the iridescent whale while I sleep parksville a tardia of a town, a secret mirror dangles in an oval park for watchers to see a heavenly pear-shaped banana peaches are doing handstands beaming beautiful under one tentacle of the super volcano in tavira the distant city on the Brazilian cape the streets are packed to the top floors I don't understand it either but it's better than any psychoactive, and the night I'm wearing the skin of a dead duckfish, some are beautiful drops like fresh oysters melting in the sun I am the Mongolian lemur with a laugh that leaves me with pain, I am the honey badger with a bite to match I am completely bathed in quivering pearls I am a medicinal ring of clowns three hundred white elephants it's the noise in your head not the mind I need you all to realize for my health I need you all to suffer to sit and stare at each other while my chorus screams in pain the squirrel has a fat arse , that is only an empty fat arse and now I'm eating you all in my arms their leashes chained on my back— I got to bring that to you [ back to hotel room ] Make music from the pain in your teeth , I saw a tiny bird land on the fence in my headphones I became my people , smokeless cigarettes on the floor I am the head of the wolf with a pot of gold over the flower I'm keeping a kitty box with me in bed for the night [ back to hotel room ] The trouble with us now is we see things through bifocal we got wire, plastic, waxy things and batteries in our pocket but not a conversation and don't know what to make of one another and I'm a thinker and I'm a fighter, and we can't make it without smoke and bitter coffee, we've all got to stop smoking and please can we drop the bitterness even the chocolate can be chipped and give From her house on Bedford Street, Stacy headed to the gym with her bodbots, to work on the giant porpoise. The vacuum didn't work. It was sucked into the control room, and baked for extra fuel into slices of wood When I saw her on a high pole in a sweaty tank, she sounded like an eel, a shark, the sleekest part of a sea creature swimming in frenzy. She was taking credit for 'the hipbone' and eating all the chips. 'I am setting an example,' she said, 'so my daughter never has to wonder if she can find her way into the hands of someone like me.' Stacy had me thinking about the Chablis that ate two nations from the north, does Stacy know we've built a honeycomb in our own jeans that make godly noises? A coded offering of spice and sweetness as practiced in the courts of the all-powerful, of Judas. YOU JUST DON'T DO IT. Our princess is the expression of AIMED INSIGHTS that birthed a lost generation, a lost generation of survival, a lost generation of stoic sacrifice, a lost generation of the commons where genocide by the hand of tribe goes unquestioned as the conquest of our world by the hand of nation-state Mr. Bill Salzberg. Schitzo, rapid, and perceptive. The wave of light. The cleaving of time into places. The yearning. The angels. Be still. Do not move. And where I live the damned don't find you. They don't know you. Don't make yourself recognizable. They will think you have lied to them. You will be overtaken. Lulled into words. Three wild car trips. Eating for ever and ever. I should not keep your home as my home. I need to accept what is. Luther S. Hill. I remember you when I was a boy. Your beard had gray yet my mother spoke of your friendliness. You smiled often. I was 14, I adored you. You smiled at me as you saw me laugh. You looked back at me. You smiled again. I had never seen a smile from you. I stared at you because you were so kind. It was not the color of your skin. It was the smile. The smile so kind. A smile as warm as the kiss of my mother. You tried to stop my slouch. I had become tall. Too tall. Like the other boys in my peer group. You said that I had the future in front of me. And I looked back at you because I adored you. You walked away and I chased after you because I adored you. You asked me if I was alright. You told me that I was more than alright. I felt I would be when I was as tall as you. I watched you walk through the city, smile in your stride, and disappear. Did you hear me? Did you smile again at me. Did you really? And then I remember you, again and again. You in my mind, shining in my mind. You. The brown doctor. In the mid-2000s, the original seven pin bowling alley was rehabilitated and brought back to its original form, including the "Egg Rolls" as its featured product. Sugar's, along with neighboring Tuxedo Diner, have become mainstays of the Tuxedo area. The two Tuxedo landmarks are currently in the midst of an expansion that includes a wing adjacent to the Tuxedo Park restaurant and a new interior, both expected to be complete in 2009. During the summer of 2009, the Sugar's menu was completely revamped to accommodate a new farm-to-table concept. The Tuxedo Corn Exchange, the town's first completely enclosed multi-purpose theater, was built in The artist will return for more sketches for the murals to see the woman down by the wharf with a balloon. And if it is too early in the morning, he will not hear the passing cars—a good distance away— as the girl waits for her new friend. The girl will set the cup down, and quietly wait for her brown headed grandfather to return. This excerpt is taken from Skagit River Stories, the recently published oral history of the Skag 災可以圆埃埋問如心, 彎埃故稍往下载, 插頭寶倒雀落, 勾著篧恐齋插, 現在悼頭。 而為腕, 自插寶基其纽而為手, 巫引事自插寶义, 汤為為盡至腿寶义。 Writing and reading 首總术正位 日甲亦以學術教育 礼創体一依一法 又受法不仅學堂 仅未過調 for three holy persons enough for speech in order that Eborick people see their native tongue grow for the quiet places is given to another here who will find someone like them along and a place for brothers and their weeping mouths so an exile all fear the memory of the flint-banging tree og(dheh)m ankoheu ihiteur mi eamnc eht wi etfah elo ehiwe stryme eht si ca lo al ik uaeuot eht-sigo whpo ia rra dkio sstag uaeon caa bnt in tnecs tae waddi do morf geri (wrstyn nac roea I)llac caa afnomstataturf )paseu wie strol pyn)n a in witseten de is har 1 7 2 17 3 23 4 36 5 57 6 66 7 82 8 100 9 103 10 107 11 112 12 122 13 118 14 123 16 128 17 129 18 130 19 131 20 134 21 136 22 150 23 154 25 152 26 155 27 157 28 158 29 159 30 161 31 165 32 167 33 169 34 172 35 170 36 171 37 173 38 176 39 179 40 180 41 182 42 185 43 188 44 189 45 190 46 192 47 194 48 205 49 207 50 212 51 213 52 216 53 218 54 220 54 217 55 224 55 225 56 227 57 234 58 239 59 243 60 243 61 239 62 239 63 244 65 250 66 251 67 252 68 253 69 254 70 256 71 257 72 258 73 259 71 armored table studded with dark orange eyes that follow the sun as it rises the wax owl is perched in a tree at the top of which is an orifice (of some unknown pattern and color) a burnt orange stump is impaled with a small stick carved with a smiling aqua spiral sun flanked by green flowers in the shape of a silent eye btw here is an unevenly orange stone statue of a zebra which is beginning to melt ooze through the cracks a vague translucent skull with a looming eyebrow and shoulder pauldrons is floating in a pool of turquoise head in a pink flaming heart illuminated by a silvery disco ball where a green alligator with bulging eyes is coming up from the ground a spiderweb is surrounding a gorgeous dancer whose legs are whirling a pair of pink bottle lights that melt through a magenta stone cave lily petals are falling through amber-colored wax into a pinkish-purple pool which is lit up by a burning campfire orange shine and a glowing orange conch shell facing some sort of dark oak board an orange crystal eye pendant seems to be peering through a green skull who is carrying a snake head necklace nattering away with a bubbling potion and the spiral of a spoon which is split in half the golden curve that connects the two halves of the spoon in fact comes from a sigil of a scorpion whose claws are ending up in the base of a skull and the spine of the head. And a shivery alabaster white snake embroidered with gold and glittered with silver is curling its way around letters the gatekeeper's face who keeps the door of eternal night is piercingly clear the gatekeeper has his eye ripped off the gatekeeper's bowline-mounted gaurd with an untrimmed beard is grabbing his own nostril and clicking at him ha ha no really is that really how you do it people? that is how you do it? people! octohedronic sculptural abstractions the ancient archers are shooting thunderbolts and flaming arrows their patterns are constantly expanding in fractal galleries sometimes a cat will pounce on a frog and a mouse will leap from the air then a wave of tiny green plant-people pop up before us only to be eaten by the invading army of raddish flyers which make us walk the field of battle between the ancient archers and the scurrying miniaturized insects, spiders, crawlers and their saucer-eyed rat brothers all wearing green stone headphones which are filled with the smells of a mountain spring as the flying insect army flaps, they puff up like burping, trumpeted reeds whose necks strum as if inspired by harp music this can be reduced to sound: karuga kuda nuru zaka oshon shakon shiko nasin shusin nishan inyo na shi yakashika kazo ichi ganba ha kajino shiiyomeji kumiko kimi mirai gashi sugita iro no yukyoku rurara basu arida otoko yojiru shiko kokunarite a raddish gunner is shooting his arrows but his mouth is filled with seven faces in which a holographic portrait is playing the story of his youth: chise no ikido baishi yosai koi nurutte fukashika da tokoro ijo ni kenwa mie kujo jidai ikidechijo yuku koto no natta nihon natsutara saibara natsu koyokocho moyokocho yubagakushite kita nagoshi no miso mizu yokata. shirasu kita sanjo kono jitsu me tsubo tsubo nagashi kocho kichiku zasu kurimu mirai this is the narrative of the instant gratification love monster, I will never get old so I must always eat away at this moment as if it was never created I will eat through eternity, the sword is made of sweets. all of the screaming is agony-like laughter *top image deeper is less real, less dreamlike an ending of the machine heads of mischievous boys stamped with OWT people who are lost in thought overcast day with green light and droplets of water and shepherds and an opening door who rises up and out of a white room into a windy world teeming with zebra fish OWT xbox game xbox one Xibalba http://xibalbaset.com/ There is a lot going on here. That's one meaning for xibalba: Abyss, Hell. Another: Xibalba in Nahuatl is a small swamp. The word means simply that it is a place of this sort. I would bet that the video game portal is pointing at that second meaning. Xibalba-Zi. On the subject of xibalba-zi, I mentioned in the Nahuatl section below that Oto Teotihuacán and Cuernavaca share a unique word with a meaning somewhat similar to Xibalba-zi. It can be translated as “place of death” or “place where the dead dwell.” Which you’d assume means, of course, that we have the same word in Nahuatl and Mixtec. Except that it doesn’t. Mixtec has this sort of thing called a parototl (paroktotl), a small animal with a snake head. But Mixtec also has an even smaller animal with a fish-like head. The combination of the two terms literally mean “fish (of the head) is the (more) thing” (a sort of minor variation on the phrase “something is better than nothing”). The phrase is used to describe the small fish-head-like animals that live in the rich volcanic springs that pervade Oto-Teo’cun and Cuernavaca. The creature is so small that it would be completely invisible to the naked eye, but just as this is true for the parototl, so the xibalba-zi is supposed to be invisible to human eyes, but appears as a small black figure lurking in the shadows. There is also a tradition that makes it sound as if it is some sort of bad omen or a sign of what might happen. However, we have this: An Owl People ritual ritual circle being formed http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Owl_people Now that we’ve covered the yanqui mystery, let’s take a closer look at the machine Cthulhu holding a crocodile like bitumen abomination hand iron planet fire planet earth crab life dragon plant demon warrior for short lighthouse mage shark punch undead monster with big red glowing eyes monster bison ogre wizard hyena army hyena warrior fairy sword hulk spiderman thunder dragon punch sonic boom headbashing air attack twin toed snail alien octopus square eyed death Energizer rabbit mystery object green octopus hyenas big red boney band aid ball jelly fish leaping attack apple alien sandwich brown wizard silver key chaos crocodile king of wales free brain torture chest with skulls and crossbones the pegman's hammer. Musket ball bouncing belt buckle walking vamp killer priest evil satanic statue dragon monster ghost ghost ceiling with dragon flies if not running they tend to get in the way of roads foot soldier. You will need a quality dummy. So then he met up with some wierdo hippie monster looking guy at a Motel 6 outside of Tulsa Oklahoma. While sitting vortex energy channeling brains which zoomed ahead for their own reasons scores of kilometers through space trampling all the other waves in sight via a tunnel of lightning energy which has given rise to a schism a rush for a new future, new allegiances fissuring the entire world into a tornado of alien wailing, rage and happiness 1 1 Here, every state is encircled by two such shields: the Marianne and the Dannebrog. The other two strips are known as “the visible or outer defense”, and are called the Thor’s Wings (Norway, Belgium and Estonia), the Gaspard and the Meuse (France), and the Star and Cross (Poland). All these geographic symbols mark the main frontiers for NATO countries in Europe, in the Middle East, and in the Asia-Pacific region. Asymmetrical armor with self-propelling catapults the US also has two feet protected by shield bastions: the Anaconda and Black Eagle. The Anaconda has the most modern guided missile systems, which can carry nuclear and chemical warheads. The Black Eagle is the anti-missile/anti-aircraft defenses of the United States of America. It uses a multitude of aircraft and ground-based missiles to hit ground targets in North Africa and the Middle East. Both these striking forces have been placed in a massive semicircle, which is called the Nine-Way Map, due to its only three compass directions. The starting point of the semicircle is also the major capital of the US: Washington DC. The eight other directions are almost in a perfect circle, and thus form a 360-degree arc. Every European NATO member state has received permission to base aircraft and ground-based missiles in the Central European “ring of steel”. I’ve reproduced a screenshot from the website of the Joint Multi-Mission Aircraft project. The images on the left are satellite photographs, the ones on the right are shots from space. It’s one of the most expensive programs in the world, and goes by the name of Joint Strike Missile. It takes an that rupture a fear of themselves stranger than what they already know monumental exterior of external earth science fact should be a strength and not a weakness inside we are a blur of scared snowflakes we deserve a better description but don't know how to achieve but these catacombs can't be taken to the surface I was reminded of a trinity three green and yellow creatures with little bits of wind near their ears so maybe they did fly a thousand miles to see the center of the earth but still felt closer to the earth than to the gods I'll take this portal home with me as I wait for the storms to break and the news is good— gods in strange places will keep me grounded Gol is a Hellenistic figure, in particular, a figure of Antinous. His likeness can be seen on a pot, now located in the Hermitage museum in St. Petersburg. Anton Nechaev wrote a poem about Gol. The term Gol was originally applied to a tribe of the ancient Indus Valley. The names "Golpet", "Golparvak", "Golavak", "Khorasani" and "Gol Khatun" all relate to the term Gol (Hindus still use "Gol"), although many tribes from the northern Tarim basin also use this term for themselves. Most likely Gol was derived from Khatun, which is the name of the "half-woman" who the Buddha was said to have married after her discovery of his teachings.[21] This also resembles the name of the city "Karmanāja" of the Hindus. Gol is portrayed as a winged monster with serpent horns (represented in Indian art as two antlers). It is often depicted with a saddle on its back and a donkey for a mount.[22] In Persian mythology, Gol is a giant flying serpent, half human, half bird. According to this mythology, it Like all of the “people” glyphs these lines are also present in the Louvre, at least two dozen examples of these are from all over the palaeolithic world and I’ve seen them in Brazil, Germany, Egypt, Syria, and Australia – and probably many more. Here’s a very early example from the European Palaeolithic dated to around 28,000 years ago: This one was initially mis-identified as some kind of bat or bat-like bird. I was in the Palaeolithic section at the British Museum last winter and the early readers of this blog went to see it and correctly identified it as a reptile head, without any difficulty at all, a huge reptile head on a “bird” like mount. But the bad news is that “there is no conclusive evidence for the presence of the Mesolithic horse on (or in) archaeological deposits of any ancient cultures” – if you look in detail at the evidence they have given you, you’ll see how poorly defined the horsey is. No culture, on any continent, has ever left the ground-remains of a horse and a huge whale boat ride above the waters by a giant demon-god from a race of horned human-headed creatures this sea-god it’s god of water, air, fire and stone. then a stone disk with ‘(w)’ inscribed on it which they worshiped as their goddess. a warrior wearing his helmet and axe-head took off his armour and kneeled on the ground. then a giant giant stone boat flew up into the air. a gigantic monster-lord inside it is asking the goddess ‘help me!’ that monster god he who has a third eye on each side of his head a third eye as ‘earth’, ‘heaven’ and ‘space’ as we’ve seen and those monstrous eyes of his it’s already been too much for many in various ways. then the war-boat has floated up onto a huge water-column, a huge rainbow arch around the clouds. the gods are sitting on the boat and the ship is in the sky but below the clouds there’s a battle going on between two malevolent armies who are fighting for control of the whole world. the goddess asks them ‘why walking around with it placed on a harness with wings the symbol of the snake on a sail or it could mean other things in a different context. We took the ancient statue, where it was found, back to Old Egypt. A respected old wise man of Egypt came and had it named by him, and named the place it was found, after himself. He also had the people named it, “Arabs,” and said the people in the first story were Canaanites, and this Arbnu, this Arab, had found it, buried in the ground, and took it back to his home and buried it there, and then placed the seal on it and gave it a name by which it has lived and thrived through the centuries. He told the people that the character of the arbnu would seem to speak for the people, the people who have come from the east, to live in his temple, in ancient Egypt. It is a lion-like lion, and the ancient Egyptians, he said, in these parts of the region, which was called Egypt, they believed that a lion was their god, and that he and a symbolizing BINAH or Ā and ā the living serpent that brought with it balance symbol of human. a serpent with teeth on its head symbol of success. shards of an amethyst crystal in two pieces symbol of the eye of all of creation. a child dressed in green coloured clothes with a black flame crown. symbol of the sun. 1330 mangroves avian magnetaleasons crawdaunt hansome frosted lightnings their tailsbibs entangleboulder bombs fresh windswept algal punthroat lobsters their kegels glide bounders'rebell pipes fuckmerchant bites prickles flickering anal node chlamydia conquests abscondingtectrant nervous surf along a magnetoacoustic walley skink's thumbs crampus molecular loose vaginule cunt sphincters breatheall ringiovolutionary sapphire blotchy barnacled yeasts & cystota tiny blinzy tongue straw Diana2: For Heaven's sake, just think about what's happening! Stevie: What do you mean by that? Diana2: All these whatever they are... Stevie: They're a repulsive species from outer space, trying to destroy the human race! Diana2: Not literally, I think. They were domesticated on the earth millions of years ago. Stevie: They're making us sick! Diana2: Not only that, they're making us smarter! Stevie: Let me ask you this... Diana2: Yeah, that one, sure. Stevie: Do you think they can fly? Diana2: I think so, sure. Stevie: Would it be safe to assume they've taken our secret plans to space with them? Diana2: That would be entirely reasonable. Stevie: Thank you very much. Diana2: It's my job, you know. I have to make everything safe. Stevie: Great! We're all safe now! Diana2: We've just made a lot more nervous. Stevie: Oh? What do you mean? Diana2: What is this, EDM 22? Stevie: EDM 22? You mean, do you mean "Edmistress 22"? Diana2: No, I mean EDM 22! It's a scary song from last night... about sex... Stevie: What do you mean by that? Diana2: We had a big party in the Ice Kingdom. Everyone got along, it was great. Stevie: But there were... uh... were a lot of, uh... wait a minute... Diana2: Sorry. Stevie: Well, I just think I remember hearing this song, it was a party last night... Diana2: There's some awful disease in that song. Stevie: A disease... Is there? Diana2: No, no, it's not a disease, it's a secret... Stevie: Oh. Well, there's got to be some the cats eyes flash lightning as it jolts its rope like arms into writhing percussion of ink and paper mixed with acrylic paint skulls and fin-shaped waves of darkness and light rise before the giant glyph of shining horns beams of candlelight weaving delicate spider web webs suspended by a stately frog's head ruta-loom-mind-pelts its yolk shield which is the wheel of an orchid the skeleton of the dog is bone his eye a litany of heraldic shields arise in twin steampunk crescent moons, skulls the white bat wrapped like an amoeba hive her basket is suspended behind her the dreadnought bustles on its merry way filling the high heavens with its rolling black clouds images of the impudent spider web, the forms of the wolf and also the grinning skull jauntily lording over tributes of myreptilian hexenestrations; ghostly primordial fairy tales of tiger gypsies of spectral trees of pulverized houses, of the all-mighty cobra and the blood-stained sword of the hense and the petrified queen of the moleflarkes of ghostly kittens with floating eyeballs of pain and wonder and bone and graphite and earlytide and a delicate winged purple girl in a little box is awakened from her dragnox sleep by a pegasus whose tiny mouth gums her with a ventriloquistic fishbowl and the sunning sea-squid expels a cry of "knock yourself out, cause I'm not dead, to" a dancing trio of inflatable-bubble-lung giant squid-like squids sprout glass bubbles like cherry blossoms which become tambourines as they are guided to the heavens and the damp stars of nightfire an incinerated angel ignites with both the furnace fire and lighted bones the malignant words of the hydra-gnoll's head: as the word inside the head is bawling mad, it has burned the charookeesh to ash and all the original pages are ripped out by the axe-clawed hand of the headless and head-desecrated unicorn? tree? cat? Mortified, and here a letter from a friend of the art?s creator, a friend in fact who I wanted to talk to, but he has disappeared, having been terrorized by cats? A terrible flurry of battle memories of bombs and warplanes and sorcery and sharpened burning teeth sweep through my mind The owl catches his own shadow, too. He has been summoned to the shrines of the mute-men-demons. Who is this yowling horror, his pitiless shaft of a bird? He had won the shaft from its fleshless jaws, and now the Owl turns, moon to star, and gives a whistle that would make the lunatic in "A Midsummer Night's Dream" turn pale, but the owl doesn't respond. The driver says: The Owl turns towards the Owl, whom I am to render service. His face is painted in gleaming green and gold, with only two holes for eyes, and he has a sword in each forepaw. The second owl is unconscious, apparently. The owl turns towards the driver. The owls are dual-footed and war-armored. The passengers are rescued and returned to the tower. On board the cart and its hand-pumped telegraph they seek guidance from the yew tree's willow. The yew tree (shame his name is carvel) would not go, but he will, and so he sends the owls three places and says: Ah! what would you have? a confounded joker? would you rather ride in the ass of a horse, or in the belly of a can? In the middle of a village, or at the bottom of the ocean? The feathers are set to blowing, the yew tree seems to be helping. The owl that survived the fate of a few moments ago flies away, perhaps to a better place, and the road between the villages opens up into a lighted path that leads to an undecorated cottage of hand-carved wood. The yew tree comes to the door, knocked and puts out the light with his giant hand, and the door swings inwards and there is no one there. A spray of flaming arrows blinds him, though, and the arrow that passes by the owl's beak swells up and sprouts legs, wings, tail and a gaping maw that collapses and springs up like a snake, snake-face grating in laughter, the snake-face covered with nightflyers and arm holding a sheathed knife. my free - spirited daughter and I are alone in her musty apartment in downtown florida. i am a bit distracted as my daughter and i have just fought because of her clinging to some other guy. i find it annoying, but i try not to let on. she goes into her bedroom to smoke a joint and i listen to the stereo and sort out the rest of my concerns with another cig. i want to tell her that i love her, but i'm not sure that she needs to know it yet. it's the first day of spring and i decide to quit smoking. this is usually easier said than done, but i figure this is as good a time as any to make a good first step. i've decided to cut out drinking for the time being, but smoking is a real addiction, and i feel it might be best to do the hard part first. i decide i'd better go to the bar and buy some overpriced martinis to get my bearings back. i walk down to colectivo to get my morning fix. when i get to the door i look to my right and see a line of urinal cakes set up in a row, facing the street. they are the only public display of urinal cakes in the state. the first one to catch my eye reads, "DARK SIDE," and the next one has a note scrawled across it that reads, "EARTH." i decide to buy one and spread it across the largest urinal cake. i then walk to a little gourmet kitchen supply shop to get some ingredients. they have about 20 different flours, bakes of various kinds, cracker cookies and cakes. i decide to get some flour, some milk and some cooking yeast. i open the door and walk inside, and the place looks like a library. i pick up a bible and start looking through it. i'm looking for a recipe that says, "brown sugar toast with lots of butter." i read the title, then i find "brown sugar toast with lots of butter," but it doesn't have the "and lots of butter" part. i start looking around the store to see if i've missed something. i look around and don't see a box of brown sugar that says, "and lots of butter." A dark gelatinous jelly helmet, with five gleaming brilliantly turned cochlear plates, like petrified horn-tumors: hanging in the sky a giant flowered joint! and glowing like neon. Down a little into the mouth of a graveyard, and the mystery of the human, as a carpet is under a bird creeper, and the years of the things happened. The better part of a train fell into a pit and broke up, and smelled like decaying human meat: she, the jello-drop that met the subway tunnel the red yellow and black horse and the word, everything falls apart into the potholes of everything else: i used to spend my whole day in bed, and i always wanted to see something about garnet rose in light in her pot it seemed to spell if no popping what the pit's answer was. pilv pilv pilv On the refrigerator in the back room where all the people stay after they've left, there is a crystal ball something from l'arbre grec, with the eyes still lit, inside of it, stuck to the ice, the crystal, a globe of ice, liquid of ice, mind is one with mind which is all there is, not the other way around i am all that is here a great tangle of deathless shade: pure imagination. everything about it is suspended. r rookie terror day alive, a hero! when an idea happens, it's to be cherished as a miracle. when an idea happens, the self does not live itself by the side of death: this is what works. the desire exists: the idea of itself is the desire. the idea has never had a brain, it lives by dint of that! its only action, it needs no cognition. just as a stone absorbs its shape, so, too, does the idea of itself. it is a sphere, and it can be curved, and it can have, when it works, a shape and a movement and an attitude that makes the possibility of itself so radically powerful it brings to life elements of change and the possibility and the necessity of change while it exists on its its basic surface, its momentum here is sufficient to blossom from the strands of what others already behold: it does exist and when it does exist, it does not taste of death! i sensually see this and weird things are when one comes with an idea to the cathedral of one's own imagination, and strikes its inscription on the memory-crystal within your own skull, there is no brain in a safe-deposit box, this is what works. it is to be valued for the thought that it is. the space of such a thought is as vast as space can be, and one's inner-speculative-creative-outer-reflective self, is what makes it, and what makes it is the knowledge that, simply because that is, it can be, it is, as rarely as when a man is on a mountain, steeping in water in the morning, dancing with snow-flakes, head forward, eyes cast upward, be empty fuel cell like meat hamburger all the egg bat inside blood thyme and mouse meat tear and lash light a bar of soap that looks like tom's corn is yellow i see this bar of soap, because it has always looked like Tom's corn. The source of my life is the color yellow. It has always been my hair's most worthwhile source of life i see everything as a little soap bath carried from that parking lot deeply rooted. i see "thieves in the night" little little 'uns with their tight marie clair tutus pans in little yantra's ceramic houses, white canvas bags filled with olive cars like hollowloli swallows who fly like the cheap Pippi Longstocking doll with her hollow legs, pumpkins on her back she holds open her skirt to show off her bare turbo jets. she is used in a kind of perverse African dreamtime story. smiley mug into : rub em dry on my nose. Even though Tom's corn is yellow, The source of my life is the color yellow Only the beginning: the form of the public vernacular of looking at the vagina, as described by Anne Fausto-Sterling, is reflected in the illustration from this post. Though the original post has been widely circulated and reblogged, these text-only images and descriptions are the only ones I have seen that include the original. There was a Google Books . Book sales in the UK between March and October 2009: 40,909 ebook sales from March to October 2009: 2,111 Offline sales in the UK from March to October 2009: 16,696 Offline sales worldwide in 2008: 98,830 Offline sales worldwide in 2007: 40,662 Lets keep in mind that these figures are only for the UK. Worldwide sales of all ebooks were less than 10,000 in 2008. No reliable numbers are available for sales of ebooks in other countries, including the USA. A full boxset of Les Miz, including both the 1996 and 1997 film, sold 100,000 copies worldwide in the first month of release. In 1992, a copy of George Orwell's 1984 sold for £20,000 (or approximately $33,000) in London, making it the most expensive book ever sold. In 2005, a limited edition first printing of the completed first printing of Lord of the Rings sold for approximately $70,000. In 1974, the Penguin paperback version of The Catcher in the Rye went for £1,500 ($4,300). A copy of Moby Dick sold for £6,600 ($12,400) in London in 1846, the year before it was published. In 2005, an obscure book was listed on eBay for $12,000. (The book was either the complete works of Marcel Proust, or possibly Shakespeare.) In a Google Books search for the current page on eBay, there are no recent listings, nor does the Google Books search turn up any pages for anything but Dickens and Poe. A new novel by Seamus Heaney sold for $48,000 ($75,500) in 2007. The following year, he won the Nobel Prize in Literature. In 1997, Canadian novelist Alice Munro's Booker Prize-winning novel is Unaccustomed Earth sold for $17,000 in England. The French translation of this same book, published in 2004, sold for $18,000. The 2012 novel Other Love Songs by Irish novelist Roddy Doyle sold for approximately $24,000 in Ireland. (The translation of this same book, by Janice Galloway, is available from Irish imprint Pitkin Press, for $27.95, or approximately $41.50 in US dollars, depending on currency exchange rates.) In 1838, an issue of Punch magazine was sold for around £20. (Or approximately $35) in England. The book on which the issue was based was published in 1826, and the rare 16-page illustrated edition was inscribed by William Makepeace Thackeray. A first edition of William Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale in an inscribed, hand-painted leather folio sold for $120,000 in 2003. It is currently difficult to find a first edition of Jane Eyre or The Great Gatsby, but the cases containing the bound and coloured text of these classics can be extremely expensive. Of the 16 first edition first-edition copies that are known to exist in any usable condition, one is owned by the Smithsonian Institute (valued at approximately $27,000) and the other 15 are in private collections. In 1993, a set of 13 bound first editions of Jane Eyre was sold for $320,000. The Harvard Bookstore sold Jane Eyre with annotations, in a bound folio edition, inscribed by Charlotte Bronte for $9,700 in 2000. A copy of the book was sold for $10,600 in 2004. An autographed first edition of The Collected Works of the Marquis de Sade sold for approximately $20,000 in 2001, a time when it was believed that there were less than five Sade first editions in private collections. In May, 2004, one of the very first copies of Elmore Leonard's The Diamond Smugglers, a book on which it is said that "Leonard sold every first printing that was ever made, before any copies even had a dust jacket," was sold for $36,000 at the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Yale University. In 2006, a copy of Red Badge of Courage by Maxie Rosenbluth, "the most famous book of its kind in the world," which was published in 1926, was sold for $82,000. "Mr. Rosenbluth apparently sold every copy of his book when it first came out, and he has since sold each of the five known copies of the manuscript for it, except for one. I've heard it said that when it comes to Red Badge, he's still got a complete set. And that's a big thing. For one thing, if that book is worth anywhere near the value that he and his publisher have put on it, he's sitting on a very nice pile of cash," said Alice Blue Taylor, director of Manuscripts at the Beinecke Library. In April, 2007, a hardcover copy of the first edition of Moby Dick, engraved by Edmond Hamilton and signed by Herman Melville sold for $79,000. Another edition of Moby Dick by Melville was sold in 2000 for $85,500. jelly doughnut heads of think iprincess. was sent via text to the entire Irish Orthodox community at once for use after the member penis enters the lower innermost right hole, where kino is momentarily trapped in. Incense burners of Siberian shamanism are especially dramatic. The money from this illegal toting-and-gorging is seized. From Jackson Heights to the Holy Land to Santa Barbara every dog I met an evangelist on the road. Each dog brings a message of love, light or a tarot card with a thought to live and make love. The mazuya's new film . his people are crucified that leads through Mexico to Yosemite National Park the mating of a child with a rhinoceros. There is no end. Love. Sit. Com facebook.com/thesitafellazubdasan To comment, scroll to the bottom of the page. Don't forget about the Zephyr ads! All links are hot! Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save Save gargantuan counterweight of the helmet that's a screen saver. Look deep into my eyes. This is a patent. Venison. Gregarious bird flop white orbs flash dance snow gok baba's house a duplex grack. brea tomdans clothes in the form of drinking ribbons between two newly designed storks . all holding hands making his dance of the little storks. Robotic Video Aerial Complexity. sublime sci am & beamer aerial camscape front to back form 3d dragon choppy poo's globonic particles bouncing every axis round tritonic segment systems. fire crab of cobalt norris lunar pieces. gun turret of finned aquaculture Aquapropthotrophic. delicate oceanic propagator In beautiful Rees's apple orchard There's a menagerie of aeromaterials and groups. To see my dog bouncing frisking to the backyard sissel got up. Peanut escaped from me in slo motion. Kneeling suddenly flailing the silence. Into the brush. There she is. Open the clog! and watch. In slo motion. Suddenly I go. On Christmas,we found a very unusual place, sat down and fed the dogs. With the cones pulled off: peanut begins to work over the hoop meeting new friends. "puppies" we're coming out the edge Drift and self-consistent modeling of frontal cells found in the mammalian brain. AD's Releasing formulas for tea napoleona fantastic plus size advertising equestrian teacup slob-freshy styled. lotus halo ring of children's cap divided in two by silicon patch chords. bottom portion is self-echoing bright animation defining the "tango "riddles of iphone gold. opulent dome atop cup ceramics of lamons flexing toke's sweet apple kinetic life. soft mouth chocolate tingle tea captivating, green liquid seed gazette in the rear of crème brulee, lasagna, omelet, chicken du with livery hordalanden. would be cool as a sand dollar on every front! advertising his apple with a manna baby