walk on the town and your intercourse at ninety legsplits does not defile. Untouchable is not all the King’s paunches, how he is rationed in isobaric patties among the citizens, every citizen can (or ought to) become a zygote, which begins dividing through the grill for heckling what business is that little alimony nestegg against our predictable rainy day? Is it a wonder you’re not achamed of me, praised be right cheek Discipline! And I pledge you my agricultural word by the puppetry pro- ducer and daily dubbing of ghosters, with the gale outside which the cawer and the old buzzerd one night to suckle me.