Please, let me face the glasses:
I can clean all the classes;
Strong machines for spear grasses:
After tedious tasks rashes…
Yeah, grass takes one to nature
But nature-rich my stature;
Tough duties my health rupture:
No how, you’ll like the picture.
What you’d wanted me to pull
I couldn’t for their being full.
Though, I can on them now bend
They will, at last, breakdown lend.
Tough jobs leave to a machine
Or you’ll hurt your chin or shin
I know they don’t curse: machines,
As we watch them hands in Chins
she was inspired by a famous actor who married an actress
from a the big city. When they became engaged they moved to a small town
and grew, hot peppers and would pickle them with apples and zuchinni, they were delicious. They saw an ad for sale of a recipe for sausages, the owner was moving to Europe, he wanted sell the rights to his very popular and special recipe. The couple decided to buy the recipe, and renamed it Souffer, and served the mild and sweet sausage with there pickled peppers and Zuchini and apples, people loved it and they became a main feature and an attraction at their shin ding's. It's said to be the "love item" mentioned in the groove, "hot ripe and ready."
The cowboy poet went out
for a breath of fresh air.
Then a shot rang out,
coming out of nowhere.
The bullet came straight,
flying towards him.
Now he’s a sad poet
who’s been shot in the shin.
He looked all around,
only saw the prairie.
Never found his foe
wherever he be.
Now for all his days
he will walk with a limp,
that sad, cowboy poet
who’s been shot in the shin.
Oh sad, sad poet,
never hurt anything.
Oh sad, sad poet,
no one of this will sing.
Oh sad, sad poet,
it’s the damndest of things,
to be a cowboy poet
who’s been shot in the shin.
He hopped to the house
and settled down there.
Friends sent for the doc,
who in an hour appeared.
The doc showed up
and made his in,
said,”Now who would ever
shoot a man in the shin?”
Took the bullet out
and he cleaned up the wound.
Then he tipped his hat
and said “good afternoon.”
As the years went by,
the mystery settled in.
Who would want to hurt a poet,
who shot him in the shin?
Oh sad, sad poet,
never hurt anything.
O sad, sad poet
what weirdness life brings.
Oh sad, sad poet
there’s no understanding
Why a cowboy poet
would be shot in the shin.
Thairs a girl , called shin hye shae . She stays in Montreal & wut else can I say ?
She works in a pet shop , & wairs Clark kent glasses .
And she issint sure if she perfers male or female passes.
Because of dress codes at skool , she was very mad !
Now sheez in college , with no dresscodes .
& sheez very glad ! She sum times works as a model ,
But thair are sum jobs she just woent due .
She duzzint understand tikkul fettish ,
Paris Hilton wood say ( eww! )...