Snakes on a plane. I have given up the fight. It's only about one thing now. Time and time again. It's the slippery slope of Just Like Us. Fate. Age. Time. Even his spit is acidic. Goodnight you princes of the flame. You kings of Upper West Side moral squalor. Goodnight, sweet princes of guts and rage. A dinosaur contemplates the night sky. The shock wave alone. Goodnight, sweet prince of death and bleach. Socrates turns away. What happens if the next set of kids as chess pawns gets punished and sent away, far away, to the orphanage of bedclothes, and he has taken your kids because he can. I can see for miles, miles, miles. How is it that the American mommies approve. It's someone else's kids. Americans are addicted to Punishment, and always have been. It is our punishment to not have worshipped him hard enough. Jamelle is throwing one rock at a time. Publication etiquette says offend no one, or offend everyone. People love politik by a fossil. Goodnight sweet star captains, our impotence is not our savior, a morsel for a monarch, your pornography of a life, a legacy of scream and scream forever. There is no such thing as forever. Who put these snakes on this 737. Time did. Democrats and demons. Goodnight, sweet Americans, sweet citizens of hatreds, greed, god has always been weaponized, battle scars, war, and the hypocrisy of etiquette, the venom of aristocracy, own it, the New York Times wants a teaparty for what is cholera, two scoops. Not one. God save the king.