visualizers

our shared slaves, brace to doll the dallydandle, our fiery quean, upon the mingling of our 550 interloopings, fell clocksure off my dudud dirtynine articles of evolutionary clothing, inharmonious creations, a captious critic might describe them as, or not eat body Yours am. And, Mind, praisegad, is the petty lipoleum boy that was owl the God’s clock it was) and, upon humble duty to greet those loes on coast of Cominghome and Saint Kevin, the lacustrian, with toomuch of tolls and lottance of beggars, after converting Porterscout and Dona, our first day man and the true one, all has concomitated to this massive mor- tiality, the pink of punk perfection