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Full of FUEL.
A lull, all okay.
Oak, jay, foal.
A jolly joyful folk loaf, full of offal, yolk.
Yuk, yuk, yuk.
Fake? A joke?
Jello fuel fall!
Folk yell!
All loyal ally - a yoke.
Fly?
Oaf!
FOLLY!
It’ll run our orbit until it burn or until it burn all.
Loath to ban it??
In birth, ABORT A BRAT, A RUNT.
Born, BURN it.
Turn it, halt it, boil it, broil it, burn it, out it.
IT HURT ALL.
IT ROB ALL.
IT HAUNT ALL.
IT BILL ALL.
ALL IT BUILT TURN TO ROT.
HINT: A NUT RUN IT, A NUT RAN IT. A NUT IN ON IT ALL.
TURN IT ON HOT IN A BATH - BURN.
UNTIL ALL HALT IT, IT’LL BURN ALL.
IN A TRIAL, ALL RANT, RAIL, BLURT OUT - BURN IT! BURN IT! BURN IT!
A HABIT - HALLIBURTON BUILT IT, HALLIBURTON BILL IT TO [THE] HILT.
ALL HAIL HALLIBURTON!?
BULL!
One pair shares their hearts, their spirit to shine as a star.
The planets, the stars, the earth, a pearl.
Note: One other person shares this one trip - no others.
Is this the real heat? Stir it. Is it HOT?
Then one has to rise to the other to seal it.
As lore, this is their star, their one-shot.
In one pair one spoils the other; in another pair one slaps, hits, spits at the other.
In another pair, tho he or she tries to share or tries to listen, the other one lathers in hate.
Or, one has poise, is polite, as the other has an art as a poser.
Oh, then also, one is in tears! A lot!
Oh, the parish priest tries to help pairs last.
He’ll not let it stop!
To last, share, listen to one another.
Also - a pair is not to share their ears, their lips, their hearts, their spirit, their spiels, their he/she trials to others!
Stop this! It’s personal!!
SILENT OR PERISH!
Also, to prate tripe as a pest on, on, on to the other … Oh, this riles, this tires!
Spare the rants on ‘hair on a soap!!’
To snap at the other is not ‘to share.’
Stop this lest the other hate this snarl, this snare.
Toil to earn a nest, then rest as one spirit.
To last, the pair has to stare at one another, listen to one another - not to others.
As others nose in to steal one or the other, the pairs split.
Others aren’t into the pair’s past.
As a pair’s hearts are stolen to others, he lies, then she lies, then later their past is lost.
A polite pair opines, shares, listens to one another - not let others horn in on, nose in on or strip their or their other person’s pants at hotels!
To last, persons in pairs aren’t to share, as others soil, spoil their pristine elation.
Also, a parent has to listen to the pair’s trials - the he/she, the snot-nose hits or slaps, the stolen hearts.
Share this to parents.
Then, as parents, the pair-ship has to stop set sail to other ports.
This ship has to slip in, set on shore.
Has he or she spent a lot at shops or stores? Oh, this has to stop, also.
So, as it is, is one torn?
Is hope lost?
To heal - sit, share, listen.
Hope isn’t lost on this - no.
In the real shit, tho?
As a pair, as in sport, no one is hostile, no one hits!
As one hits the other, the hit partner has to stop this relationship.
This is the real sin, as no one helps open this trap.
This lesson is REAL PAIN.
A priest help this? NO!
NO HELP.
STOP THE RELATIONSHIP ON THE SPOT, NOT LATER, or step into the rat’s nest - a realprison.
Also,
Is one or the other into spirits?
STOP THIS, also!
Or, is one or the other into porn?
To hire another in the real or to hire to strip another online, the personal spirit is also lost.
Re: porn - no help, no stop = no hope.
Oh! Hear this? A snore?
As one or the other snores, the other tires so! So, he or she pleas - STOP THIS SO I REST!!
So, listen … to not pine the lost, later - PRINT THIS, share this to the other.
The point is to rise, aspire to the honest to reap elation on earth.
Soar, shine as a star!
At least let’s not paint a stone to pass it as a pearl.
Glean images in a mélange of letters.
See steam rise in a mirage.
See the meat, see the gristle. EAT IT.
It’s legit.
See smiles as those ‘not into it’ realise there is something to it.
Ease into it! Let go! See the sign - the NAME - in front of some THING or someone’s nose?
That sign is an image of others’ stories.
Imagine those stories. See them as real.
Let the letters merge into mental images.
Let the names, the signs, the mental images, the stories mingle or mix into the real.
Retain these as memories of things, eras in time, or others - male or female - as he or she or these are great or grim.
Set these memories in stone, then set them in motion. LISTEN TO THESE TO THE MAX.
From time to time, someone seems eerie.
This is the time to get into it.
If not, feel the sting in great grief in realise too late that NAMES MATTER … NAMES ARE MATTER.
So smile at this art!
LETTERS EXIST.
Seeing this as either the greatest, sexi-est site on the Internet or slamming it as, at most, a moron’s art?
These are the ones to see the lexigrammer as a finagler that tries to fix letters to form an image from a name or a time.
No.
Memorise this: In a lemon tree forest there is no salt.
This art entitles emo-morons to their right to sort the great, the smart, the mean, the ogres, or to see a ghost!
NOTE: ENGLISH IS THE HOME, THE SINGLE, SOLE, LONE AGENT OF THIS ART - NO OTHER.
Isn’t it neat?
Ahem.
At least someone tries to master this regal name-game art that lets others see things as they are.
Most ignore or seem to mangle it!
See a famous man, a star in Asia.
In Osaka, in Asia, I mastered an old art and made a modern fun fast-food.
I am founder of a first kind of Asian fast-food.
I made a soft strained udon, so common men earned, stood, and ate.
It takes moments to make - meat or no meat.
Smart men make it, morons make it too.
Most said it is true, sure - I am first to find food for most men to stand to stand to take a fork out and eat.
Soon, a food is inter-national.
An idea makes me a sort of freak, as I turn into a famous star in Asia.
As men ate it as a main food and as a treat, I started to earn more and more funds - on a streak!
From time to time, some random men in Asia said it’s ’so so.’
Some rude dour ones stammer and make a stink!
Some said its odor is of feet!
Some said it taste of sand and dust and dirt.
Some said it is a fad!
I asked, ‘So?’
It’s not steak!
I don’t fear men.
I tried to make a food men eat, and men store. No more.
If men eat it, it is food!
As I die, I eat it.
After I die, and into future, inter-national men remain fans of, donate, and eat our fun, soft, food.
On August 25, 1958, in Osaka, Japan, at the age of 48, and after months of experimentation to perfect a flash-frying method, Ando - a Taiwanese citizen who had born under the era of Japanese rule in Taiwan - marketed the first package of precooked instant noodles under his own Nissin brand. Ando began the sales of his most famous product, Cup Noodles, in 1971, providing a waterproof polystyrene container. As prices dropped, packaged ramen soon became a booming business, worldwide. Ando died in 2007.
Trust us … Sure!
Ask us.
We take risk, we are scary.
We swat, blast, stick it.
Stay back! Stay away!
Sticky tar.
SICK!
We stab backs, steal treasure, sit back, bask.
A secret - we let water be rusty, caustic, take treasure.
We re-wire a city, let it be a backwater.
See a beast cause a real scare, real scar.
Break, burst, blast, bust, scatter, tear.
We blur, rub a reality. Use a ruse.
A ruse? We act like we care.
Reality ALERT! BLARE!
We use scare tactics.
Let us take a city, alter it, use it, waste it.
Lack-luster wankers.
We sit back slack, sweat, eat rice, eat a biscuit, wait, let city water be caustic, rusty.
We like treasure, seek treasure, take treasure.
We barter, eat, sit back at a city-base we built, rest, bask. Sweet!
USA balks.
See as we strike, carry a casket stack, bury risk-takers, clear a site, scrub a site.
Care? A ruse. Bite us!
We’re busy! We stare at, screw cute, busty, slutty sewer crabs as we ‘take care.’
Be sure, seek clarity. Yet, it’s true.
React as curt, slick brats act like beastly city rulers.
Reality is, crusty brats are liars, steal, scare areas, let a city rust like a backwater because it’s easy.
Yes, we take a scary risk, yet we abuse a city’s rules, laws - create a sicker state area.
Ask a city-state! A city-state say WE SUCK!
USA BUST US! WE ARE BRATS! WE SUCK AT TRUST!
TRUST US? A REAL WASTE, AS WE ARE REAL STINKERS.
Chance?
An anti-ice age?
MAN - MACHINE METAL - HEAT.
A heat-age.
Ice, then heat, then melt.
Again, again, again, men mangle a time, an age.
Halt a game - TEN MEN IN A CAGE CHEAT.
HATE THEM!!
Chime in.
CITE MATH.
A match can melt ice.
Machine heat can melt ice.
Man can’t eat meat.
MEN CHEAT.
Men cheat at math. A team can cheat at a match.
Ten men can cheat MAN.
Men tangle a lie, teach a lie.
Light can heat, a machine can heat, metal can heat.
Ten mean men in a cage claim the heat can’t melt the ice.
IT CAN.
MENTAL! LAME!
E-mail them! Entice them! Mingle!
Hie!
Cite math! Cite ailment!
MAN CAN’T TAME THE CLIME; A TEAM CAN MANAGE A MACHINE.
Get at it! Mean it!
Cancel it [or] get a camel.
Man can’t let meat-eating, machine-metal, light heat then melt the ice.
ACT!
Hope?
Cheap.
No peace.
Nag, nag, nag.
Pen on a page.
No change.
Each one hang on - cope.
A tourist doesn’t, can’t under stand a place can’t be so nice.
But, true is, one in Dubai can land in prison in one second.
IS DUBAI PAID TO DETAIN?
A trap – don’t step inside!
NO PROTECTION BUT ABUSE - LOTS.
Stop! Bad place!
Stand outside.
Be scared outside. Be scared inside.
Don’t lose an I.D.
A stolen I.D. leads to BDPS.
Also a DEBTORS PRISON.
Ladies don’t rest - bleat.
No pens, no pencils.
No notes!
DRAB. CRUEL. BRUTAL.
Don’t read! Can’t read!
A double prison inside.
Ladies raped can be put in.
CID, cop or cab can put one in.
Do not doubt it - it is bad.
Inside ladies sit under soil.
COPS, CID ARE PAID TO DETAIN.
It’s best to not step in.
Radio is not on.
Eat bread.
No sport, no outside, no air.
No clean, no care.
Blood is on beds.
Sit and stare.
Boils on butts.
No one care about ladies inside.
Unreal place – close it!
Super bad.
BAN IT.
BRAND IT - BAD.
Ladies are in isolation under soil - no air.
Cast into a base place. ABUSED. Lost.
Is Dubai PROUD to be so ANCIENT?
Rue a trip to DUBAI.
TRUE.
DON’T BE BUSTED IN DUBAI AND END IN A PLACE AS CRUEL AS AN ANCIENT PRISON.
Yoville
Yo!
Live lovely.
Lively volley.
Oy!
Vile!
Evil!
Oily, ill love.
I yell: ‘L O L’
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Farmville
Frame a farm - a real 
m
arvel.
A lame real life!
A vile lair?
Leaf, lime, mare, veal, meal.
A fair fare.
Alive?
If I live a lie - a frame farm - I fail, life.
Me? I am a[n] ELF!
All frill.
Live a real life.