Barely tandem, baring its teeth and metaphors, rasping with gasses and cheese, the overture rang with a chimp's howl and shrieking suspension abridgements...
We all knew what it meant, to serve, be served, reserve, and preserve the columns with all their ionic glee and cherished lockdown. Ossified with tasties, better you bet your census.
Here's our old lady.
Formidable firmament for the five five twenty; ot no longer.
I'll miss the ot's. And horse milk.
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