The Flinstones

Making burning biscuits of paper money, structure of their map, surely they were grabbed for the crisis, and between making cupcakes or throw rocks to fuck the leading bankers and politicians who are constantly sermonizing and skinned us, we have chosen to remake up a mystical treasury which are peaceful samples of destruction, not massive, but orders of woodpecker, advancing at the success so that occur the passage itself puts the operators in a second place, because the first already have it the inventors of the calcium mass.

The rules are like that, so we must to follow them. Some follow others, the violents wake up more stones, and more stones manufacture plumb’ little eggs because chickens and hens, certainly don’t lack in government. In the end, forever, they sing, laugh, set up in evidence “tears of smoke” and and only darkened the future, while they, -followers of shit, motherfuckers,- are placed between the TV screen and and biased forces khaki, green or mi-x-to-lin (a cleaning product) uniform, feeding them like never before a termite was feed. Wooden man disappears and termite ends, and with it the era of “ The Flintstones”. So let’s make it a reality!