Orange Memo

Make the shoe, chucked with thick coin syrup and sticky spoon creme. Don't want it lumpy, a scrambled wet element in the left hand and a devil's tee shirt in the right (oily and laughing). It's not half happening.

The crammed hard body is the seedless business. Puree the salt and mix with a chilled tube: floured like one's roommate, but not clapping like clamped yogurt.

Tastes good. Terrible flat piss trampling my biography. Lingual twitching as I dip the timepiece into peas.