3.13.14 Driscoll Babcock Established as the oldest gallery since 1852 in a location otherwise unknown from the storefront @ 525W25th Street inaugurated a new recrudescent mnemonization of white main street's safari in case those building new constructions in the New York area inventing codes for supportive iron structures as aluminum for a quick trip to Elysium as fuselage by whoever rents, coops, or condos.
Here's a celebratory hippy jacquard reference to the Congo capers, when Slap Happy and Sad landed in a region in Africa, just about any, and tried to make a grab for iron ore clewed in to the color of the dirt and the term white. You don't believe me? Just see how they dress to this day. That particular zigzag went West to North and South Dakota, forced allied indigenous there to abuse cats, dogs, small critters, and then destroy not only frontier churches where the unwanted of every imperial European dynasty were sent to shine, but also their own, since property deeds to them had been passed around under the term newspaper, flattening the recipient in the process.
Here's an ode to hair, dark and blonde, a filed of Austrian imperial expertise for sex toys to piss on, to avoid a trip to the bathroom, as a way to track down all Continental country inhabitants, in particular Catholic, after calling them lazy. This preceded the erection resulting in the roaring slang from slaughterhouses of WIPE THAT FAMILY OUT! THEY'RE NOT US!
This is where moderate kibbutzim meet their timely AT LONG LAST! end. At the shout FOR THE CRUSADERS' LEFT BALLS! all of Israel, in particular Jerusalem, as a cross, guilty of arrogance for wanting to be state capital instead of a vacationer's time share, will be teletransported into sub basements built by spaceship moles, rabbits, weevils, and zombie gnomes under their oh so modern modular apartment housings, just for having dared to build them at all and being mild, not bombastic enough to shake the world by touching Hispanic nipples in public while on a shopping expedition to Conway's. And why not contact Max Jacob or Donna Karan for a quick platform shoe on short sandals for the new 2014 fall line since Calvin alas, has sold his business to Van Housen and thinks he's Howard Hughes hiding behind the bushes posing as white picket fences in the Hamptons.
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