Oh bliss. Bliss and heaven. Oh it was gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest spun heaven mettle. Or like silvery wine floating in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slushed, I knew such lovely pictures.
Oh bliss. Bliss and heaven. Oh it was gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest spun heaven mettle. Or like silvery wine floating in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slushed, I knew such lovely pictures.
“Naughty, naughty, naughty! You filthy old soomka!” A Clockwork Orange (1971)
My lap was a regular old cat commune last night for some reason.