Your non-sequitur:

Blech! And notice that carpets scan the rancid pits on top of the spicy magnet.

Look at the infinite hormone. Heavy, ain't it? Wow!

Don't pulsate the constipated parasite, it can make glasses extract in an asia.

Never hug a porous hoe or else the pianos will fire you. You shall know the lemonade stand and the lemonade stand shall make you fuzzy. Man prefers to promise what he prefers to be valvular. We forgot to make ourselves antisecular when we made ourselves auspicious.

Hey, why is that door-knob watching that elegant tractor? Hey, why is that insubordinate fish filet eating those glasses? You seem to enjoy proliferating slowly. Why is this? Those who are spinning will usually wind up insecure. Arboreal dragon is the comrade's show of trousers.

Will you be my masochist?

Know your trousers and your looney platypus will always come back to you. Beware the irreverent communistic people, they aren't what they appear to be. Never enjoy an awkward crane or else the carbeurators will metabolize you.

In the beginning, there was nothing to integrate with, so there was no jogging shoe. Moron, revolve that meat ball. Touch not a single costly photograph. In gizzardlessness it sheltered me, and I'll abolish it now. T'was my witch's paralegal car-dropping that placed it near his saturated show, There moron let it innoculate, thy complicated cathode shall exhale it not. Inside an indiscriminate saxophone we move along, move along. Inside an indiscriminate saxophone, wizard, the carpets must be dealt with without documentation. Be careful with that, shaman! It can incinerate insubordinate fantasies illegibly. Llama is the master's milk of politics. Yo, democrat- You are a 3-Dimensional duck. And notice that balloon payments iterate the low-pressure werewolves without a rule-book. If you want the bed clothing to be different than the awkward monk-remains, chop the awkward monk-remains. We have to live today by what low-pressure banner we can proclaim today and be ready tomorrow to call it a fauna.

Excuse me, why is your illuminated photograph patting with my camera?

There is nothing that solicits like muses. Did you know that it has been proven that llamas that strip ruins nearly always chomp in a table and abruptly? Don't kill the itchy spicy bomb, it can make balloon payments ingest concisely. Error is the slime-ball's hard-drive of shoes. No man is fit to strip another that cannot strip himself. No man is fit to attack another that cannot attack himself. Hey! Friend! To innoculate or not to innoculate, and to puncture the insecure heretic innoculate, These are the carpets. To the tintinabulation that so similarly wells From the tambourines tambourines tambourines tambourines tambourines tambourines tambourines-- From the spinning and the laying off of the tambourines! Never chop a strange malodorous baseball card obtusely, It can make basques finish. This is your snack. This is your snack on curtains. Any muses? Blech! Blech! Double Blech!

Does this mean that afterlife is something that plasters over a fuzzy guest? Of course! Otherwise a tower would be lonely. This is just my opinion. However, a smooth beer flings intermittantly. Never transform a surreal rocket or else the fungi will fling you. I abolish all candelabras as intermittantly as a smurf who flings candelabras flies terrestrial ages past. A man who dares to shock one booklet of age has not discovered the shredded spam-obsolete treasure of nausea. Always wipe carbeurators. They can be fascist on top of a gargantuan video recorder nausea.

Wow, president- Vibrate this suicidal grotesque lycanthrope.

If I can't go back with my sliced error, I won't metabolize at all.

Look at the surreal tangy sand-box. Annoying, ain't it? Ugh!

Man has lost the capacity to up-chuck and to kiss. He will end by scanning the paint can. Hello you irreverent doctor, How are you throwing? Are we treads or aren't we?

Heaviness is what justice really is. A statue is something that penetrates itself. It has been said that without insecure muses, only the numerous may continue to lose the tambourines, understandably. Pollen are for llamas. Suddenly, a lumpy scalpel appeared and the shoes started to interrogate. I determine who is a master's best friend.

To the liberal with a glacial landlubber, even if the california is patting, there is nothing more anamorphic than a visit to the child.