:: Empty dead babies; searchlights on. ::
I swore I'd never write again. This is the result.| [::..archive..::] |
|---|
| [::..recommended..::] |
| :: cruel [>] |
| :: memepool [>] |
| :: potal of evil [>] |
:: Tuesday, September 24, 2002 ::
A rock-and-rolling belt-fed maxim machine gun spits a rhythmic pulse of ear-shattering sonic calamities. Likewise, and rotating propeller blade beats out the steady drone of a helicopter's insect heart. As the two conflicting high-volume vibration oscillations ripple into each other and overlap, they create tiny tears in the flesh of reality. Plus, there're all those bullets to dodge.
:: OwenF 9:38 PM [+] ::
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