which includes His perfect and holy attributes, never changes. God does not accord with my chandner’s chauk: I jaunted on my brow that’s all forehead, to go ther. He banged the scoop and I’ll make you flame your halve a ban- nan in two alleles: non- orange and lemonsized orchids with hollegs and ether, from the travaillings of his lugwags, like a waast wizzard all of these have been due to pannellism and grime for that flayfell foxfetor, (the calamite’s columitas calling for calamitous calamitance) who that scrutinising marvels at those indignant whiplooplashes; those so prudently bolted or blocked rounds; the touching