The rabid thinks he’s Lorenzo.

     That is the self-regarding puffery all hidden away behind a mirror circus of pointing finger in the secret world of Indexology.   Lauren/zo.   Edgar KC Casey Lauren/zo.   

      If it is that the applicant or overlook is from Britain or Pittsburgh shouldn’t tell such a one about love.   No far worse mistake could possibly be made, for the rabid is lustful of tears and bargains with tonsilings of a brother.  Misunderstandings can often form in hopeful presumption in this the rabid leers its expertise.

        Take exotic count of familiars dead.  A lady among them was the only one of them who had any sincerity when she looked at me.  It is such that the heart of the attacked can’t even say she was my friend, I’m not allowed, imagine the vulture mob if one spoke so unwisely as to liberate admission of admiration?   

         The carping begins ravenously with the bomb word Respect!  They wouldn’t allow me to speak to either former departed either as they declined.  Somehow they managed to monger some explanation among themselves for telling me when it was over.

       So it is that one of my friends dies and the foreign pieces of shit in Pittsburgh don’t even own they was unwell.

        And the gas pisses, “Gabriel!”