What King Crimson and Donald J. Trump meant by “death seed” on their new age KKK album, one inclusive of Black confederates to the cross-burning mode, they illustrated with NEVA Corporation-coached sex offender Leslie Sanetta Katz, the orange haired, Jewish, Valedictorian trophy-virgin of Pulitzer poet Pener Balakian support fame, promoted by Ming Na Wen and Reagan in Bowie’s Hitlerian rampage over his Diamond Dogs war.   Bill Clinton, a major stakeholder in lies about the attack, perfected dissembling and cagey language in describing Lewinsky. Saul Brecher used to tell his dog, lick the lobe, ‘Nuch. The voice of Harpers whose ultrahigh saw vibrator cut loose the neuroplasm is strategically named Lap-ham. Suffice it to say that Katz said it was like a nightly cat cleaning, but she withheld return or the blaze of coitus.

       This was Bush’s bushline in the sand of strategic infamy, the collar at the life and death line between injection desserts from poison artists in North West mars-lack where they preserve and protect the wine-hold.  It was the line between nuptious chicken lick’n who was lick’n chicken and the Rambo of First Blood and Jimmy pimmy whimmy wuzna man enough, “why should n’you get another chance”, she taunted with her chaperone X-slur.  Exler goes, “n’you blew it,” and her attorney say, “It wuddna even been rape.” So I talked this over some folks and they was all, n’you obsess n’you cudda saved John Lennon, that means the Obama gig GITS the Midori “Go/to” trophy E/W circuit crone, fiddle dee dee, go cry at WPIC on O’Hara where the Governors will stick a brain abscess in n’yer food.

      Something about Two Virgins Pussyball being clocked to the AIDS attack says to me, Donald J. Trump. Suffice it to say one of the ways we know AIDS was an attack is that London is using American university culture for a Sex/Death laboratory with funding from Japanese pornography research.