In a decidedly absurd world, things are happening.
In this hypothetical present, JackDupon continues to merrily urinate his excess nervousness on the tape recorders of the “Welcome to Tibet” studio.
And at the end of the pipe a subcoherent molasses has finally appeared, after having kneaded it, purified it, degreased it finally begins to look like something.
The future protective cardboard runaway of this smart juice promises to be absolutely grandiose.
Control remains to be done before pressing the legume