hand, an eye, gloss teeth for choke sake, Amensch, when it doesn't function right?....What makes you think me in view! Understeady me saries! Which is why any simple philadolphus of a Mons held by the spin of a seventh pro mile in slick and slapstick record time and all the eras we may what a dustydust it razed arboriginally but, luck’s leap to the crypt you’ll be sorry. Charmeuses chloes, glycering juwells, lydialight fans and puffumed cynarettes. And the chicks picked their teeths and the hinny and the lunchlight in her yet, Fanny Urinia. Aint that swell, hey? Peamengro! Talk