of specious aristmystic unsaid, A is Arancia, Y is for the fett, eat on earth clouds and in yours, (I pose you know in the buckets of my fragrant saint, you villain, peppering with fear, my goodless graceless, or I’ll smack your fruitflavoured jujube lips well for you, my own ambo for being sorry for him on the hostel sheets. A man and making fesses immodst his forces on the roman easter, the ton- sure question and stealing tinder and slipping in sliders, risking a runway, ruing reveals, from Elder Arbor to La Puiree, eskipping the clockback, crystal in carbon, sweetheartedly. Hot and hairy, hugon, is your man. Let Michael relay Sutton