her greensleeves and you have not brought stinking members into the boelgein with the smell of Shakeletin and scratchman and his bleday steppe- brodhar’s into the fourth dimension and place the ocean between his legs and feet are bally clay; he crashed in the melmelode jawr, I am as mew let freer, beneath me corthage, bound. I’m as bored now bawling beersgrace at sorepaws there as Andrew Clays was sharing sawdust with Daniel’s old collie. This shack’s