Deleted member 13332
mark renton
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- Mar 31, 2021
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with @8PSLcel so bad right now
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bruhi want him to lisp on my cock and stick it in his diastema
@Thompsonz dont think you’re off the hook gay assbruh
Why are users so gay when it comes to me?bruh
Not our fault your bussy is immaculate is itWhy are users so gay when it comes to me?
They become rabbid dogs when they think of this bussy.
oh give me a break chrissy! he's a brazilian or some other fucking argentinian, you'd see his bubble butt and book a flight the morning afterbruh
I'll keep hairmaxing, anorexiamaxing and testicular atrophy maxing.Not our fault your bussy is immaculate is it
It’s starting to feel like we’re in Vegas and I’m you’re attorney trying to talk some sense into your bitch ass but I’m also aggressively retarded off the mescaline and can’t speakoh give me a break chrissy! he's a brazilian or some other fucking argentinian, you'd see his bubble butt and book a flight the morning after
This place is getting to me. I think I’m getting the FearIt’s starting to feel like we’re in Vegas and I’m you’re attorney trying to talk some sense into your bitch ass but I’m also aggressively retarded off the mescaline and can’t speak
We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether and two dozen amyls.This place is getting to me. I think I’m getting the Fear
A drug person can learn to cope with things like seeing their dead grandmother crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth, but nobody should be asked to handle this trip. Bazooko’s Circus is what the whole hep world would be doing every Saturday night if the Nazis had won the war. This was the Sixth Reich.We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether and two dozen amyls.
Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can.
History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.A drug person can learn to cope with things like seeing their dead grandmother crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth, but nobody should be asked to handle this trip. Bazooko’s Circus is what the whole hep world would be doing every Saturday night if the Nazis had won the war. This was the Sixth Reich.
A drug person can learn to cope with things like seeing their dead grandmother crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth, but nobody should be asked to handle this trip. Bazooko’s Circus is what the whole hep world would be doing every Saturday night if the Nazis had won the war. This was the Sixth Reich.
hey! that's not your line, doctor!History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.
how come there is no 8PSLcel law? The more lengthy the discussion, the more probable is someone is going to express their desire to smack your ass like a drum
My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights—or very early mornings—when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big 650 Lightning across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour wearing L. L. Bean shorts and a Butte sheepherder's jacket . . . booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which turn-off to take when I got to the other end (always stalling at the toll-gate, too twisted to find neutral while I fumbled for change) . . . but being absolutely certain that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were just as high and wild as I was: No doubt at all about that. . . .hey! that's not your line, doctor!