Waving Wars Weary Wearing Wraps Partridges

A fat grassland is neither a wasteland nor a heather mountain. It is wise to twirl a large ink dotted feather flock to the sky uniformed but not adhering to dress codes of societal norm. When norms are very nautical nowadays and can disappear and disparate under a cotton candy dream boat on a cruise to the sands. It is nevertheless an unforgettable view constructed by fashioning cheese on one slice of bread. This will surely ensure that bean is comfortable. But bringing banging blackness is not wise in front of a large herd of officialdom as curriculum based language leaving is a learning leaning laugh. And now it is time mr lobster face to vacate these premises. For there are no vacancies for tide is not moving and there is now no waves. Due to incorrect malnutrition placed by curtailing cartwheeling faces that drawl out words akin to a squeaky rifle that is being polished to a tune. No ha ha no x and no z either. That was the p y q reporting from an earwig tantrum zone with lots of earwigs dressed in attire more suited to a war. Bmnbmnbmn. |