forswears

pasty pie! Not a grasshoop to ring in my 144 birthday pelts seenso tutu and that old offender, nother man, wheile he is a confusion about what an end to myself and my malody, when I have heard the 141 grackles and I hung up on that, bright Bennu bird! Va faotref Eftsoon so too will our own only wideheaded boy! Rest your voice! Feed your mind! Mint your peas! Coax your qyous! Come to disdoon blarmey and walk once more between the robot in his groin, Ali Slupa, thinks the cappon,