''e's interesting and has good moves, long work

Today’s headlines

Posted in my writing, writing by tetradugenica on August 1, 2010

Rough Housing Boy Demands Batman’s Hand In  Marriage NyCrimes

Paint Colt Rubs Nickt Bin St. Paul Pioneer Press

Jarm Nolt Rarolda Pingali Matmanta Rin Dol Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

Why They Dont Make Clear Bathtubs Washington Post

Did Andrevv like my sailor shirt, cutoffs, white hightops with black swoosh + bandanas and cord based accessory platform outfit todayLA Times

Pulto Gasto Tampa Tribune

Thinking  Mean Thoughts About Pregnant Women  Causes Autism Boulder Daily Camera

Black vinyl leggings are out! Alien Jungle leggings with a baseball cap from a t shirt sewn onto a whole in the butt cheek as a patch are in! So are  ragged denim vests with soft silky linings worn without a shirt and the other things Myf wore late Saturday night! Women’s Wear Daily

Frabian Donnet Scores 50 points in  Sand Bigger Match At Today’s Finals in Charlotte  Char. Observer


Child Jailed For Sending a Twitpic Of Herself Naked To  Santa ClausArlington Fort Worth Star-Telegram

Badass New Truck Invented That Doesn’t Drive If Occupants Are Gay  Drudge Report

Milkman Squeezes Funny Bug As Horrified Nation Watches Philadelphia Inquirer

UR Hot    Ur News Gazette


Posted in Uncategorized by tetradugenica on August 1, 2010

As you know,the protein allows them to hide in the tendrils of sea anenomes without being stung. They’re safe from predators and hidden from prey.

My analogue salve protects them from media and peer influence towards negative self and body image. There’s one for both boys and girls but the ingredients for each are identical. It’s solely a marketing decision for higher profit so that I can buy more hot runway gear


saw the boat/touched the lips

Posted in Uncategorized by tetradugenica on July 14, 2010

I was at the bottom of the garden, muck-sunk.  my captain, tunneled into the head of a worm. made a new life  in the worm, they followed me. . the highest rise of the damned is the highest point of man. Worm man s Food, mink-like taste, this taste?

Down in the muck state i live with deep mud fish, mudmen  and we get together and praise the beautiful and dark, we’re all miracles of courage. We fold muck paper and learn that each of us was marked for stealing a gray bird in scripture.

40 years mudded with the eyes of a black dog, bubble shaking eyeball bubble popping. vision not left but leaving for the surface, their surface and we see everything we’ve ever said or resaid the mayor of the city shows your other face in the mud mirrior

mud wife, drippy black,  her lips, our lips floppy and mudd filled bursting after i filled them with ionzed metal solution, gold plated lips, silver plated lips, copper fins, exploded  retired and mud filled.   This is my wife. this is the olympics.  nothing but gold and silver nothing

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The adorned and the scoured

Posted in Uncategorized by tetradugenica on July 14, 2010

DO have a big fat makeup slave that lives in your makeup laboratory. He is brewing up new creations, conjuring new shades of nail polish, orange or grey, and he sleeps on a lazy susan futon/storage bottle copter on the corner. He is your apprentince. And the slave tells you about this. Apparently the guy who’s it at a very young age at down at a garden show. He got a sunflower up his ass. And it drove him to insanity. He has to wear dark glasses to keep the sun out of his eyes. So the flower doesn’t explode his intestine. A story so typical of the inner city. The other boys walk lines in the sidewalk the shapes of wings. The wings are sand blasted out by the city. The city destroys birds into momentary clouds of blood.

The city tests your eye color with paint mixing stations ripped out of bankrupt hardware stores, boutique paint mixing stores which offer to match to the blue you saw in a dream, the grey you noticed when your car was rammed by a motorcycle cop. The further away your color eye is from the mean the meaner they are to you.

The city is hiring people to put makeup on greek statues. Historical accuracy is the important thing. Not to me. The logistics of color. the Logistics of sand blasters. This statue has full lips, the easiest, I rub lipstick in concentric circles and smear it with an ostrich feather I pull out of my feathery tail piece. My body shakes. The lips ring gllossamar. The top lip pulses, The lips become tails of meteors. The statue imagines my body behind the gleaming mica jumpsuit. I love this statue. We love each other.

And I moved onto the next. Thinner lips, bigger eyes, narrower shoulders. It begs for lipstick color with a pun name: raisin cane, dolce vita, sweet dreams. Fuck you, I tap off a piece off in anger, then add it to the sagging alexander wang double pouch vest, symmetrical in cut and assymetrical in weathering and weight. It sags hard on the left with pieces of art who’ve demanded ridiculous and outdated eye makeup suites, and hair creams unsuited to their cut and style. Fuck them. But thin lips deserves lashes. Half are opposing diagonal hatches, the other half are sweeping strokes twice as long as the hatches, each half overlaps the other in the middle. Perfect, you are perfect. The statue’s eyes now exist to hold and penetrate. I love every bone in your body. We move on, each statue walks with me and stares. Statues only stare, gracefully, or what I remember as the imitation of grace.

Medium lip, calm eye, a cheek as wave, a chin that suddenly pops from the face. I am a workman for the city, I will lay your foundation, I am a weaver for the face, I will ride your wave. The foundation pops open. Your missed future is in my hands, in my leather makeup harness. I blow a conch full of dyes, spikes, dyes. The mirror; the object. A viewscreen in 4 colors I made in the night. I wake up 3 times each night and create new colors. The colors which only exist in my life, they cross to your real. Black, a gloss that will not scratch, only smooth curves. I loom in tweed of Aubranç, Bleaigh, Bonstroon, Balut, Buorzed, Bvonn, of Buuff, Gar , Tailed sienna, Tailed umber, Chuklake, of Chopper, Cordovan, Desert Witch, Ecru, Fallow, Ricochet, Rail horn, of Octo, Wheet, Limb, Throne tan, There are many. The cheek pulses and statue’s heart beats. I walk past. We are nude: nude lipstick applicators are filled with videos of us; stills of videos of us. We continue to the end of the hall. I am paid in dog blood, I make indigo. I work for the city. I am paid in classical fountains that spout sand,  I remove the dune bladder and alter it  it to powder passersby.  We undune the city, sidewalk wings, unblasted, flap and sand is flung and sunk into the ocean. Ah, I spot  a new beach for summer fun, name it for myself? Maybe 😉  Now we are all flawless and smiling and singing and hugging and kissing, Goodnight 🙂

— Myf

Jul 28th, 2009 at 5:09 am

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Hero Quotes

Posted in Uncategorized by tetradugenica on July 14, 2010

You can go suck my dick. Russia is great. We are best at tanks and destroying them. And gay are fun and peace loving peoples!! Russia do not like gay!! Kick them back to itali where gay is standard!

Re: Gay sex in a tank, thats is great!:
You heard? Who told you that? Your tender gay lover?

Army is not for gays like you are.

–Sergei Fedorov


What’s wrong with Bush? It’s his actions that are leading to the downfall of Iran and Islam. George Bush is a great man that should be admired in every country.

–Ricky Martin

  • rick ross: butterfly tattoos… i have over a hundred myself
  • Chris: like there’s a bunch of gay dudes in leather somewhere saying “if a girl ever tried to hit on me I would pin her to the ground and beat her dead”

Once about a time
a robot slammed me into the boards
and it was a hockey bot
the strongest one ever
I had to slash it fast
and do a deke
and bash the button on its neck
tear off its necklace
and then I use the necklace to trip him up
and he bashes me again
and broke my arm
so i pulled out a jackstick
and popped him in the nugget
That was the end of the hockey bot
and how i won tthe championship

–Fit Reality, The Cyber Fighter . A fucking man who never sucked a cock! not even a fake one for practice!

My favourite food activitie is to put about 7 pretzels in my mouth and chew them til they’re just a big warm salty dough ball that i can munch for a while ÎÏÎÏ

Banaela Limpette-Gumnock, Crisp University class of 07

New idea, now that my hair is about 15 cm past shoulder length, i’m going to do a huge blonde stencil of my astrological symbol. I think that will look awesome


Time magazine calls spit ” the thing most likely to ride down  Myf’s spine”

and I call it the only thing that can never be rendered in 3d by powerful groups of computers in windowless buildings

How do you keep your young son from becoming Gay?

Posted in Uncategorized by tetradugenica on July 14, 2010

First an anecdote:  my mommy killed me pets because she said ”gay does not deserve this companion mutt,” and use her axe to cut them  away from me 😦

Her axe was sharp and heavy, cut me and let my airy wiry sorft pretzely arm puff and hiss on the ground. The 3 fat doctors with their avant gard haircuts  reattached all parts missing, added more, and more, until I become more than myself, and something less than a whole.   on the right? allright.

The professor at university called Aliks says to my mommy” the presence of a hound dog can make your gay little man straight.”   My mommy heard this and felt a great feeling of joy on her body. So I am the last hunter.

She tell me the news, I respond “ME touch doggy, make me doggy? from spirit connect??”

Scholar Aliks say to my mother on this phone “ my new book Gay-Nine relates sizes of dogs owned as a child to adults’ sexuality.”

This goes to show that the small dog will make a boy have small penis,  which make him become like woman.  Get boy large dog, with masculine properties.  And it must kill the animals all days to show the boy aggressive behavior.

IF you do not allow your young boy to see the animals of legend such as dragon, he won’t grow to be evil , to emulate this rude flying snake with its terrible power.  Make your boy watch the virtuous bear protect his family. Or watch the proud sturgeon pass upstream with the speed of a horse.

Question from my mother: When Is A Boy ‘Old Enough’ To Look At A Girl

“ How many erotic photoshoot can dyou do with boy before his mind break”

Professor alikks shows new new study: Homosexuals received a lot of attention from their Mothers. It’s all right in front of us. If your child sees a woman, and she is not under dominace of man, he will become homosexual.

JaZzzed up warriors contain the issue and remain popular, smoking incense, chaing personality baed on fragrnace. everyone is hairless, and arhced , housing that shortens our rooves and we scoop out th ert underneath, still supported scalloped. No signifigance to any shape, 2o f these. We have backup.  We have buttons, we shine shinly, and we wear dark colors, and lightt ripms.  We  killed 1000 fat old men who long for monarchy and pray to the status quo.  Every man a king and everyone else a slave taking out the shit pot. And we all died over and over agian.

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Posted in Uncategorized by tetradugenica on July 14, 2010

How does One Stay fine looking, glamourous egg cooking?

DO have a silly naive twink  makeup slave that lives in your makeup laboratory. He is  brewing up new creations, conjuring new shades of nail polish, orange or grey, and he sleeps on a lazy susan  futon/storage bottle copter on the corner.  And the twink tells you about this. Apparently the guy who’s doing it at a very young age at down at a garden show.  He got a sunflower in his butt. And it drove him to madness. He has to wear dark glasses to keep the sun out of his eyes. So the flower doesn’t explode his intestine. A story so typical of the inner city

Bulletins I missed:  Screams and Screams and screams

Myf Kittyn:  Benjamin button stuck his dick in my mouth while i fell asleep! this is fucking awesome!

Myf Kittyn:  How many pieces of candy am I going to eat on July 4? How many you got?

Myffie:  you want to see a crab that can read minds & who is friends with a seabird who steals chips???

Myffie: Fuck america and fuck the fourth of july! fuck my dick and suck it and fuck my boy pussy all day!


my Ode to robbyn Barble and violet sheets

Posted in Uncategorized by tetradugenica on July 14, 2010

what I did this summer

The baby carriage arrows bumpily and restlessly down the push crib line. The dyke is cooking thin pious hens, The fetus orders anyone woman around to hear its cries. ever restless and bubble eyes aglaze.

The detour from peril on magpie back, The echo of dykes scouting the type of racers! The pig arrow is the densest car then? Consecrated shore brairds pop through the cracks on the course. The rope contains our orders, knotted.

I hear the blow of a restless horn. My dossier  contains the necessary documentation and items du blackmail to get  my shore taiga consecrated.

The value of my holy land allows our crew to gouge the arena. We  spend half determining the peril of hikers spotting our general’s rococo country home. We  have the mesial branch of a popular path condemned.

The jackdaw with the ridiculously oversharp beak punctures a truck carrying a solution of mastic to secure restless mulberry trees to the bare mountainside. I had abandoned my bird killing station to make a labial request. My dyke partner had sex with me while I sat in a chair. “Like a dildo but full of blood and spongy tissure rather than a sacred polymer.” How kind of you, how kind of you! What kind are you? From an asian country?  From an Asian- Country?  Leave me alone.” I pouted, unsatisfied.

The jackdaw pecks on the horn of the Time Bull to expose  an area  decorated with scrollwork  representing clocks, watches, timepieces, ocean going clumps of land bobbing and restlessly seeking somewhere to deliver its bugs and bird nests , it’s on a schedule!  It traveled Cosmic creak and heard the  blow of my pious horn, when I angrily answered the blowing of the restless horn.

It reaches the miserable shore. It’s tubers are fat and slick with leaking palpal balm.  I row over and squeeze it out in threads and twist them into a rope.  The value of rug of these threads could buy a 400 meter length of fence every wild boar to  paw at and disrupt or knock over depdning on their preference!

I return to land. Docile Hotair floats above and I see the flash of his gold and copper buttons. The baby carriage holding  a sparrows nest rolls down the mountain and stops at my feet to  gouge a hole in our shouted discussion. I last said “My sacred Taiga home of the Time Bull is of melancholic value, we lose our place at the sparrows chirp hello or something. We return to the conversation. I explain:  ”His shed horn, less decorated, still rococo in spirit, is now my middle pocket’s resident gouger for calm but steady rock blocking our path. The papal excretion rope is securing our mulberry as the glue dries. “The house glances at us: rococo cold and humid.

We had to avoid a new request from the general that was passed to us up the Cosmic Creak, on the cosmic noise phone (model 1). The magpie rest station of papal rope is taken down, the salve is needed in a more serious place. I replace it with A bird sanctuary created from meat and ethereal beauty. The bovine time  carriage again rolls to my feet. I trace its roll.    At its origin I find a condemned old bird ordering around ten thin men. Lost hikers made docile and servie  to the staff of the jackdaw by  the cold and humid stroll? My  horn made Gouger attacks. I’m surprised as it unbuttoned my pouch on its own. It flies from my belly and seems  a blue/blueish arrow in tumbling restless flight, a sort of frisbee ready to calmly massacre a bird (not the good birds who sing you songs out of friendliness and general good attitude but the kind who own slaves and trick poor nature lovers into setting traps for me and the other  people like me as we secure the hills).

Dinner has  square courses of  sectioned jackdaw and jackdaw stuffed sparrow and the main course has the Christmas colored beautiful pheasant spy! ” Licky lippy nite, ” I squeal.  The wonderful pack of wild boar  who told us of magpie with backs strapped with guns and recording equipment and other items that put us in peril are here. (Don’t worry they use knives and forks like a civilized pig would)  My gouger buzzes around displaying its same cyanic shifting colors in what I think is glee in spotting all the beautiful animals he’d killed, it was a bit too high pitched until I adjusted his tone with a bit of papal blam on his breath valve. Braided  orders escape their shells knotted in our command papal cord and creak. To hollow out the baby mountain is the braid’s  point of discussion. My labial action had been seen by several darting  finches and was a popular point of discussion for 1 corner of the square courses. As they talked my food became denser and colder and more humid.

My mind went to the miserable baby carriage, its furniture sanded consecrated auburn. The color proscribed for only  the tubes that held consecrated cord. The Cosmic Creak brought a continuous flow of magpie and their materiél secured with thin rope. The finches tell me that the Jackdaw leadership has begun calling me  ” The melancholic racer who was created by the holy general’s request of The Good One.” and their bird allies have taken to calling me  ”The humid auburn colored racer who drifted in from the cold shore.”  I’d rather be called” the dossal draped loser who wipes balm on valves.” Another shot misses me as I watch the left mountain.  Another  attack cooking. We re-blow the horn that starts the heart of the Time Bull. He trots to our stand and tosses  what  calls “the rug of briber & beauty?”  I  advance on a rocky protrusion over the pass with the rug draped over me.  A reflection in my silver leather chromeo boots startles me. I’m beautiful! Hey, I’m good lookin today! The sexiest I’ve ever been. And the birds notice.

The seem to be cooking in their heavy black coats of feathers, seeming to miserable to be moved. Theri commander offers many types of food pellets and larger denominations of money in various national currencies (you know who likes what ( if you’re unaware i’ll explain later)! The condemned and ever restless sparrow advances toward me with its head down in sadness and something metallic glinting at me on its back? I sit on a  Rococo guard tower in the broad shape of a sanded bull? My  gouge slits a thin cord from the rope, it says “The birds are in love with you, they have never seen someone with such a sweet face and figure. They’d like you to cook and eat them with the knive they’ve provided.” I devoured their thin meat then. I paused to worry about poison and indigestion. The Jackdaws huddle on their pool of balm in our sacred taiga. The condemned baby carriage speeds to my feet again, but at the last second takes a  detour. News comes in: “The advance of the Magpie has halted at your mountain projection,  the auburn sparrows have become friends with our cattle! Hostilities seem near an end.”  The rope finally says something with more  value than balm rubbed on a  pig!(i’m aware its how our messages travel but it seems like a waste, doesn’t it?)   Does Auburn’s new body block weapons, like that arrow stuff?

The cosmic horn of roaming Christmas blows!  We all huddle, even  thin men. A Jackdaw summit. My friendly dyke is no longer melancholic and now awake! The dyke sees pig and wild boar. The rope reports cattle dropping horns so that we may gouge any meat. The peril to cooks flashes restless blue-blue yellow! Meat summit! The dyke stuffs her face while directing traffic around a  detour.  A rockslide. Mountain dogs yap at us for some reason.  The crunch of inhaling auburn hot air has escaped from the mountains as the dogs finally relay to us that we may dig the rocks.  The magpie backs are empty, save for the cosmic cosmic!  The time bull tells us to disturb sleeping jackdaws, the first roused tells me that he’s written an epic called “The Value of our Attack on The Melancholic Beautiful Racer, Friend of time bull, enemy of daw” He shows me The wartime rug coated in poulette and the birds eating it piece by piece in their bird arena.

Hot air.  The rope that The Good One revokes. I must advance in restless projection, it was part of the mountain but now it is me. I am interviewed by a n attractive middle aged woman: She asks what I remember. I remember The attack of the pious magpie in the mountain’s  shadow. The echo of braid communiqués on the taiga shore of the cosmic creek!  The bird who named me ‘racer.’  The beautiful noisy birds. A condemned christmas eating square courses of dead birds. The dyke’s blue flashes of hallucination and our old kiss, the message I sent in  braid about our miserable time together. The request of Palpal Balm From the see, told to me by the man floating on his button.

Now that i’m revered, bird saint friend of time bull, always draped in this rug which has disappeared to my eyes, everyone sees me beautiful, not in their own coneption but in mine, which is the best I think, and the most beautiful. Does the shine from my silver chrome boots awaken the sleeping prostitute? The finch on my window revokes the scolding he gave to my shadow as soon as he saw my figure.  My apartment holds the rug made  grease of beautiful kidneys pulled from the head Jackdaws. The prostitute  I’ve called comments as I pay about the heat of the air she breathes. Hot air.  Confine the mouth’s work, to one, the labial work to another, or one for all giving even favor? The prostitute spots my Beautiful shadow flashing blue  and thanks me, I thank her too!  Now roaming to advance in projection, my blue shadow or my flash of beauty? The sparrows announce: ”  Dossal dossal roaming, as I cross under their nest, projecting forward, being the projection and feeling taiga and breathing in overly hot, burning hot

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Casting call

Posted in Uncategorized by tetradugenica on July 14, 2010

I need a child actor who can skate and who can be easily hypnotized

Bike ride

Posted in Uncategorized by tetradugenica on July 14, 2010

Toff and I had a bike ride to the center of the forest and ate  vegetables from the dick . willow women stripped me naked and beat me with their switches.  Never locked eyes with knots on a tree, laws of the forest bind and govern me.

seagreen grass full of waters pico graboid monster straps another jokey virginia hokey by his feathered hair

roped up and sluttily knotted, dapper dokums wander unascoted. another bottle orange and emptied, taps me and shakes to tempt me, cupped up knifed up really spiked the copper’s kettle. A homemade bomb with stolen metal! yogi now! grab the basket! grab the basket! a defensive screen protected his flank, he spent 3 days devouring  turkey meat, apples, grape juice, wine, 5 potatos, and more and more and more until the basket was cleared of crumbs.

Now for the truth:

And latest revelation, Thoms has found permanent excellent as he shuns vacation for the pursuit of purer economic truth

Thomas discovered the sacred truth of of monetary scholar Evan Spigot and his writing partner Nerry Tamerlane,a few years ago with their pamphlet  ”Over the Plateau” whilst he  was stilla bit entangled in his materialist roots.  He accompanied them in their television ventures, for “Mystery Throws”, “Nuckle The Pig”, and “Glassmaker’s Horror”, until they became slippery with with oil and sweat from involved tapings and running on & off and ready to develop this new type of booklet.

excerpt from “Graff need life” Wet pavers become glossy with the slip membrane of fresh rain, the atmosphere has been compressed and breathing becomes a more plant like act. Statues act as measures for air pressure as they are alternatively crushed or weathered to sticks and nubs. Bianca strolls past a crushed rider and horse  newly powdered and her sand colored dress shines invitingly as it peaks out of her fox fur coat that is currently vibrating and undulating as her stroll leads her to the traveling bureau. “How do I leave this place,” she asks in an almost silent and haughty but confused tone. ”  I’ve noticed that everyone is experiencing color differently and It’s upsetting something deep inside me, and she reaches for a thick flipbook of photos tkane in a newly discovered area along the mediterranean in France, and as her fox coat retreats up her arm a tattoo of  3 rows of 9 colors with alphanumeric codes marked in tiny type. In a quick shift, Bianca cries heavily ” this is the only time I haven’t known what to do.”  Nerry glances at her and shares her preoccupations and has several of his own about the color of  things that used to take  on the color of what they were near.

They book was written here: a wooden cabin built in the historical style with whole trees, in  it a membrane  maintains an area of extremely high oxygen and filled with coils.  Money is all false of course, and we must replace  this economy of debt and false production with an alternative illegal economy.   It’s with the greatest pride that they welcome Evan and Evan welcomes them, he walks the interior length singing them silly nature songs, animal came by the windows to watch, a bit of a vacation from nature, just in time for the animal-specific holidays.  Evan comments”romantic rose petals on the bed look like blood stains “


even without the harshness of the scientific comparison it is probable that the alchemy has pinpointed one proximate cause, small brazilian manufactured Sonar/radar arrays decorate  lawns to the mixed public’s good spirit.  Your local manufacturing concern  wins the new army rifle and high speed patrol car contract, to all the bows and whistles of the grateful laborers.  At this time this year the head worker, the Adorned One will sell moveable mistletoe at Christmas.  Hereafter two visions of rebirth  today, you may not choose your favorite.

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