15/04/2014 - LOSING COUNT IS NO BIG DEAL

Losing count is no big deal. Brothers are helpers in immaculate light, they sometimes drop stuff off for later delivery that leaves public office for impeachment. I still can clean their tardiness but that’s all that needs to be okay with membership and the sheriff that dictates the problematic from the whatsoever. We should get ourselves a dog with severe quirks and spasms that are really just abstract ways of asking what’s here or what’s anywhere without the right spanner in your hand. DON’T TOUCH THE FRESH ABRASIVES. Caress the helpers in their line of work, do the detective work for old women with lost cats and developed courier servers. You just don’t know them like I do; the cream has its reasons in the woodlands for the appropriate filing of small claims. Look at all of them: aren’t they grotesque and far worse than owing a bunch of money to a smattering of skinners. That’s why we stopper off at the apartment to find enough niceness in ice-breaking pleasure. History postpones the crooked man and his heinous business acquisitions, it makes the frailty true without consequence. IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? THERE HAS TO BE! They shot manikins for milkshakes.
            I don’t quite say what I speak nor do I recite what I reiterate but the bytes are indeed berry-shaped and festering with secret chambermaids. Say wow to come with me, to leave the archers behind to care for the helpers and trade their every whims. Something is preying on the witches and their incriminations. Do you know how to leave it behind for the watched heartless and their sneaky noughts and crosses games that don’t really tell the disrespectful much. Can we come home for nutcrackers? I DON’T SEE WHY NOT. Hang by the business office and make a few gawky promises. We found her hair inside this like green wives and blue husbands and their alphabetical children. Have the murders meet me there where the operations lie low with eccentric circles. Save the last resort for the one who’s actually heard about you in oceans and scars. She treats me all right with quick peaks and sampled touches knobbing for burning. This is outside the woods, of course. There really is no account for taste just as there is no lark rising for tinkle glamour. Where do you buy your snowflakes? COULD YOU BE ANYMORE SCENIC! SPIDERS!

Waver waiver meanings meant – a slap on the wrist. I’ll tell you when the pudding and pie will speak up for dangled wolves that make the ride awkward for everyone involved without height restriction or named lay lines. Asterisk, you ask me questions with booming voice and falsetto aftershock but you have no right to claim my tree as your own marker in football games. GET ALONG QUIETLY NOW, GET ALONG WITH YOUR HANDS IN YOUR POCKETS AND YOUR STANCE TURNED AWAY. End of the day, end of the line, stay of execution and all that merits a jocund clap.