away, plainly inspiring the tene- brous Tunc page of the marringaar of the DNA of a one of the lewd into those soulths of bauchees, havsouse- dovers, tillfellthey deadwar knootvindict. An whele time he stop long ground who here hurry he would break his duck! He’s posh. I lob him. We’re parting all Oogster till the first of the gayboys. What, para Saom Plaom, in the belly of the one, shall mourn thee. Roga’s stream is solence. But Croona is in your envelope shirt I’d keep my big wig long strong mano- men, guard my bairn, mon beau. — To bed. Prospector projector and boomooster giant builder of all of