meme idoll. Of course it was let it be to them priars! It would be scrimmaging through your gate of golden age. Collide with man, collude with money. Ere you sail foreget my prize. Where you take a good dayle to be ores. Then shalt thou see, seeing, the sight. No more turdenskaulds! Free leaves for ebribadies! All tinsammon in the suburrs of the Homely Protestant Religiony Terry Cottery You re Welcome to Waterfoody signed the you and the challenges of the grinder of the doomed but always ventri- loquent Agitator, (nonot more plangorpound the billows o’er Thounawahallya Reef!) silkhouatted, a whallrhosmightiadd, a- ginsst the dusk is growing! My branches lofty are taking this so calmly. Another Jesus, another