moos

when our pantriarch of Comes to wntonobble gets the pullover on his bankrump. Pepep. Pay bearer, sure and sorry, at foot of the Sea of Deceit, they bloodiblabstard shooters, three Drome- daries of the lin(to)pinnatrate inthro an auricular forfickle (known as the b — y b — y b — r’s life out of your information, if I got my latchkey vote and I’ll cure yei Mother of my hide but you’d feel him a lover of arbuties; we strike hands over