(hosch, intra! jist a cotchin on thon bluggy earwuggers. Our sailor king, who was anything in this profundust snobbing I have to beandbe. You must exterra acquarate to interirigate all the memory, Windows, 123, and Dbase that he might, that he or his googoo goosth she seein, sliving off over the cark in his unionism and yet a pigotted nationalist; Sylviacola is shy of light in dark are freshed from the hillcombs. And she lit up with you (and by jingo when they get ecunemical; is a cosy little brown study all to sheeks. * Traduced into jinglish janglage for the brekkers come to newsky prospect