Testing Out A Creative Technique, by @EdwardUsher

By Edward Usher Spotify. Rhododendron. Anaphylactic shock. Surreptitiously entranced with left-wing politics.Progress is poor. Brad Friedel dons a smock and donates his time to the pursuit of haplessness.Enamel chips off the sabre-toothed biker. Tracy Beakhead snorts some more Jacqueline Pillson the last Sunday of the month. The Blue Moon rarely walks alone. You’ll never wear cologne.Emperor Armani has been quoted as being against the war in Cry Me A River. It’s in all thereputable newspapers, and some of the trashy ones. Putin put in a shift last week. He’s the starof the show now. But most people email their mothers first. Years and years. Gameboy. There’s a crit protectionhelmet and smell of petunia with six thinking hats and stop. Four hundred mugs of mineralwater. With the lid of a house and high five, the other glass was dusty. The garish light of the studiowas brilliant. Where’s the grid? Who is Chevrolet? Is Kanye West? Dusty Springfield’smasterclass on musk was pretty key that day in September when forty men perished in the coldAlabama air. Jack. Maureen. Four. Pencil case. Studded leather belt like in Turkey and theSyntax Error would not compile. Half of forty-two is twenty-one like the cars and one flew over the cuckoo’s nest. Day and nightnurse is twenty-four hours of earthenware. Creatine. Herbal Essences. Much ado aboutsomething. Home sweet hetero-normative view of the world, you twat. Blue belt bluebirdsbearing bandanas beat up Brian Blessed. Cantankerous is a word not taught in the Sovietcurriculum, at least not pre-Stalin.