Am Arsch, mein Freund!
| Jo, you hardly thought the Berlin Manga Puppetdisco Pipapo keeps finally peace in the cardboard, when she flips again walking day and plays La Paloma on your nerves! Since 1999 Räuberhöhle is flashing her milk teeth with yowl, auto-scooter-techno and Plastic poop booths for paupers, äh girls. Everything is so obviously completely clearly snitched by Le Tigre, or Porn Peaches or the überhysterical Gravy Train!!!. Oh well, I respect women. Hundred percent, practically they are humans as well. Gays, women, handicapped. These whole fringe groups... I am down with them as long as the personal level is okay. With her texts she is bitchin worse than the Pope in the Puff! Complete Kokoloress! Everything! Therefore nothing precede in Germany! Large lesbian inferno is this. Cake, chaps, Tampons and so on. Dress up like Harajuku and then fully on Rambazamba. Is it my fault, that she is imprisoned in this cell heap? Next she wants to push me the 2nd worldwar into the shoes! She is not shuten up even if that kermes strategy is crumpling under her ass away, like some rotten cookie… believe it. And then: Radio hole! Now again she has a new Compact disk out. Krawalla can´t just change the skin color, but transform into a completely new animal if necessary. Outside Mrs. Merkel, inside a piglet. Ocheese. The music cannot differ between fish and meat. Therefore she just eat from carrots. Animal liberation and such crap. The small pelty delicate meals, which always go like "she she she"… bow wow. The bang bag of Robocop Kraus also along-sang on it! Musical! Sounds as if composed by feet. I always say "the shit changes but the flies remain the same". Or here, the song with that Al Burian combat dog of Milemarker from Chicago. All child shit! Can't she do nothing at all alone? She puts the Raketenjungs Emos in the boat and decorates them with strange feathers. At least THEY flaked to mosquito dust when they've noticed, that this whole emotional togetherness-shit is |
just for the ass. You can brown-nose yourself also from top to bottom. And who mixed? Well look at this. The aunt Renate & Gerald Mandl! That becomes either cake or shit. Rubbel the cat and out the mouse. Anyhow, the label is called Megapeng records. Megapeng! That says ja everything actually already. But if one is doing a turd, I cannot say, hmm, that is yummi Choco pudding. The sales volume is loosely two, three numbers more largely than this whole Madonna Klitsch. But then trying to make one on Streetcredibility here. This bride laughs you behind your back snot saucy in your face. Otherwise one can hardly explain exactly, how she and bärchin can afford the annual flip mill round trip to Australia. Four times they probably teached Fisematenten to the Koalas downunder. "NO worries" and so. Strike ME pink, ey. Even in Japan and America she established ratzfatz a petting zoo. Always quirlen quirlen quirl, quir, quirl. I get Quickherpes, if only I think about it. Rather go working, Froilein! And all this with such a poor copy of the infantile Poopsburger eye crate . She is rioting in her Ypsheft costume around, as if the pure anarchy on a child birthday applauds, thus with all the Mamba-avalanche and sparkler fumbling. That this Bärchin did not gnawled her paw off already, in order to free herself from the Mickey Mouse ape shit is already an ripe achievement. The bear probably can't imagine a life outside of these flim-flam booth anymore. Maybe she would feel like Flipper on gangway, if she is not tortured with cheap dance inserts. Who does not parry must go into the cave! Bumms, aus, Santa Claus! Boy, boy, but no way. Strictly speaking you could tinker the whole muck from old cheese boxes at home. You don't need no yodelling diploma for this. But the concerts I'll look nevertheless. Yes, who pays the chapel, determines what is played. Tendency will be like under granny's skirt. My Grandpa always said. Yes and this is correct. Thus come… pimp riot is blown off here! Till valerian, Tschüssing. (Bernd St.) |
Shake Yr Anus 