This man has no concept
of transdimensional guest laundering. This man has the right idea where
finances are concerned but he has no other law whatsoever. This saddens me to
the point of crucifixion. Do you have the first idea how long it took to grow
Jewish customs in a metropolitan society the other day? Either way, truth is
unchanging in the rube’s gaze. Seeing evil is an inevitable aspect of crossed
stitching. Goodness knows what can be done about the three or four livelihoods
still plopping around ignored by general consensus. Candle makers are the true
captains of industry provided they know where the seventeen aspects are kept
and how to get at them without waking the twenty six llamas of retribution.
Tireless anacondas wind themselves in pleasing paddles in order to retain their
sexual privileges. Could whoever activated the mighty machine go round the back
of the clout to be broken?
You’re a fool if you
think that Caesar has any say in the matter. He is tomorrow’s little blessing,
a tow truck going out with yelling bloodcurdling episodes into the creamy moon
rise. I’m not the man or the droid to try on this matter, the one you are
looking for is somewhere round the back playing bingo with hellish trouts. They
meet regularly to deprave themselves in the comfort of a tawdry bed covers of
Ms. Francis. Do whatever you please, just don’t say I told you to come.
Furthermore I know the poster collection is cranking out post-traumatic tunes
that distinctly lack saxophone solos. Why are solutions so purple? Could
somebody explain who’s coming by who’s accord? I’ll slice apart the protesting
if you do, I promise. Nay, I vow like with vowels and everything. Payment in
silver isn’t too bad, mind you. You are the dearest neckties to drop by today,
I’ll let the odious responsibility slide for the time being seen as how we’re
all old buddies from other anuses. Is it Thursday or Monday? I know its next; I
know that for a fact.
The ridged epistle is a
good yard or so from the patriot and his endless supply of rafts. He is the
Knight to go into business with, such plausible networks the man has. We’re
going south anyway and not in a good or fun way. Making understanding of
following is like bleeding a correspondent of his escapade tricks. Licenses are
common on our intrepid market, stolid as the candy-laced tropes you insist so
regularly on. Dependency is a better daddy than any lady in a healthy tuxedo.
She doesn’t stand a chance in our line of work, whoever she is. High profile is
a chewable outcome when compared to what we spend our days doing and
complaining about doing. The freighter parades are nice though, like meringues
or rectangular missives. My wife has expressed interest in becoming a stripping
missionary, with the monasteries and everything. How can I weed her out of
this? One-two, one-two seems far too simplistic in this scenario.
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