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A bakery of bees

A story is often a mish mash jam on a tambourine. Whirling. Ignorant inscriptions incite incorrect information. And a bow in a bowl is not a box nor a bag. Well, normally it isn't anyway. But does a tiger blossom roar at midnight? Is a dimmer switch dim? Could it be that an electric eel can power up to ninety-six cars over twenty months and an optical ocelot is in prime time position on a television schedule. A coat with stripes is useful for racing practice but a chequered coat should only really be used to play a wild energetic game of chess. Pink picture playing pleasing piccolo productively producing pragmatic precision. Dot to dot then sit down. Great isn't it? But a fascinating breath of a near bead is not a breach of beach it is a braking bee. Opinions opulently occur officially announced over orders. So along the crystalized crate it is wise to play billiards. But not too frantically for that is reserved for cute little dust balls whose sweeping causes the passing ants to sneeze loudly in ships. At sea is at sand and at sand is a foray of a fishes' dinner plate at shell mansion. Metres then. Wow. Wouldn't you like to visit an itemised code today? Hahah Vesticular virtual vest versions. Hahaha 2 possums + 6 wallabies = 900, 800, 700, 001 % of a twenty mile koala on a train drinking eucalyptus and gin mix. Xxxxxx platypuses xxxxxx symmetrical Z Z Z Z

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