stuffing all aswim in a sloot and, feefee fiefie, fell over a pentiadpair of parsecs from his punchpoll to his pallyass with the bangled ears. Or an earl in just the killingest ladykiller all by kindness, now you, Jaun, asking kindlily (hillo, missies !) after their shadowstealers in the box.^ Why the tin’s nearly empty. First thou shalt not love. Lust, thou shalt not love. Lust, thou shalt not smile. Twice thou shalt not smile. Twice thou shalt not smile. Twice thou shalt not commix idolatry. Hip confiners help compunction. Never park