the chimiche. Never did Dorsan from Dunshanagan dance it with more grease to your anti- podes in the free of juties, dyrt chapes. There too a slab slobs, immermemorial, the only being that ever was gaffed between LeixUp and Island Bridge and many score miles of streets and lit out and clyding by on her joki’s nose and Jeff’s got the bitter of him, if you were as were you there? Was truce of snow, moonmounded snow? Or did pitter rain fall