Your non-sequitur:

Pollen are totally useless when they are largiloquent or fascist. Those who are defunct will usually wind up basic. I had to set curtains to antialiased modem in order to make a place for iron. Don't abuse the superstitious sad speaker, it can make tapastries freshen under a byte.

And notice that cannons spew the complicated sheep quickly. It is inconceivable that undocumented hullabaloo may be throughout the obsolete golf balls useful without being behind the meager treads volumetric. There is no greater antialiased CD player than a poem flimsy. And what are these "sad pollen" that ought to be sad? The pollen you defend every day, of course, only less orthodox. With runtime errors! Workers of the world, coagulate! You have nothing to lose but your tapastries! This is your heretic. This is your heretic on ruins. Any questions? Workers of the world, itch! You have nothing to lose but your muses! This is due to the fact that balloon payments tread under a prosperous stain. Of the consideration of the ruins and sheep - Of the prima mobilia of the sexual soul, the muses have failed to make room for a squishy grasshopper which, although obviously existing as a superficial, sad, glacial sentiment, has been equally overlooked by all the muses who have preceeded them.

Always expel shoes. They can be numerous differently sexual. You shall know the secret and the secret shall make you idiotic.

Hey, why is that futon comforting that improper night?

And what are these "pulsating llamas" that ought to be pulsating? The llamas you thrust every day, of course, only less happy. Neither a borrower nor a succubus be. Always strip fungi. They can be illuminated on top of the methodical labor union sexual. What a liquid ditty floats to the comforting mattress that listens while she gloats on the glacial elementary insect. Ode to an insubordinate book. Love in the turning book. The constipated basques ponder throughout the hell. If I can't go back with my tangy question, I won't play at all.

Neither a costly lunatic asylum nor a moose be. Woe, peasant- Give me that severe heretic. Into the valley of werewolves rode the analogue demonic crane. Where is my anecdote? I need a textured keypad right away.

I push the bombastic twitching heretic.

This is your irreverent platypus filet. This is your irreverent platypus filet on golf balls. Any pollen? A man who dares to shock one termite of death has not discovered the massive engine of delerium. Hey! That is so very archaic! In a heavy death sort of way. The volleyball and the pulsating piggy bank are alike admired for an itchy cathode, and for the heavy curtains. Stop firing my multifaceted monitor, please. Muses are squishy sheep that only convex pollen surround. I determine who is a snack. Neither a borrower nor a masochist be. Oh! Oh! Sheep! Sheep! Oh! Uh-oh! People of the hollywood, shock! You can only bonk your improper shoes!

Ouch. Oh, the underflowing man.

Will you be my speaker?

Ouch, homeboy- Give me that obtuse theater. Dammit queen, I'm a head not a drunk promise! Of the consideration of the basques and sheep - Of the prima mobilia of the uneducated soul, the carpets have failed to make room for a spam-intricate tree which, although obviously existing as a drunk, strange, rampant sentiment, has been equally overlooked by all the carpets who have preceeded them. There is only one paralegal worse than an orgasmic dank compact disc and that is a proper book.

What is a concave obsolete acute volleyball? Man prefers to lend what he prefers to be pompous. Pits are for treads.

There is only one hall monitor worse than uselessness of radio and that is business of heinous tube.

And notice that trousers fire the painful muses without documentation.

Will you be my trusting medium? Effectiveness is what justice really is. Will you be my spook? Ecumenical table would end if the complicated stereo component could return. D'oh, gremlin- Show this unending teutonic scam critic.

Every king ought to be more fashionable than his pollen.

King: A poem worshipper without the poem. Whatever stampedes the smarty-pants stampedes the cannons of the smarty-pants. True orgasmic clock resides in the capacity for evaluation of proper, evil, and basic information. No thank you, I'm watching my succubus intake.

What do you think this means: Jerk, there are porous tapastries.