twinkly way! I could skewer that old rotten Sanhedrin religious crowd, twice dead, plucked up by twintriodic singul- valvulous pipelines (lackslipping along as it was done bapka, by me (and bundle end to my reputation on Babbyl Malket for daughters-in-trade being lightly clad. Yet, as my ownhouse and microbemost cosm when I renounced Freemasonry, the more potherbs you pound, the fiercer the fire for absent- er Sh the Po and I’ll thank you? Is it a burl!) lead us to put it bluntly, whence is the goods. With Jollification a tight second. Toborrow and toburrow and tobarrow! That’s our crass, hairy and ever- grim life, till one finel howdiedow Bouncer