The republic of the slow and the dead can only survive by feeding off the belly of the prettiest gal in the universe.

Let’s roll; do some petrol body-shots off this ol’ broad!

Let’s roll a solid phatty; act like we’re having fun.

Let’s roll back to the yesteryears: the same old fraud.

Let’s roll with mack the knife, regret what we’ve done.

Grab a hold of a phone n roll.  Roll into the middle of the street n fuggheddaboutit.

Fake it until you make it.  Roll it.  Roll it.  Rock n Roll it.  Can’t live without it.

 

Roll on dude.  Roll on dude-lady.

Make something happen: something shady.

Roll ’round this track,

dump your baby in the pit.

Don’t look back.

Keep moving.  Keep shopping.  Who gives a shit?

Come back when they’re older.

Don’t let them judge you unfit.

 

It’s like love on Pluto, only colder.

 

Let’s roll out the barrel

and birth a barrel of couch monkeys.

Let’s roll out a thick one;

slide it into them junkies.

 

Nurse Justin, assemblage and digital photo manipulation, 2016 copyright GPD

 

God bless this mess,

 just bless it to death.

It needs time to gas off.

In stank you protest.

 

Now’s the time for infectious negativity.

Let’s roll dat donkey straight into tha ditch.

We’re on a roll, we’re on a psychopathic spree…

we pitch a deadly pitch; a puncture and a stitch.

 

Prowling for catchers.  Catch us catch your can.

There’s nothing like an ace in the hole.

There’s nothin’ like a daredevil, a showdown with the man,

a bullshitting bullshitter, or a pitcher on a roll.