Your non-sequitur:

The first rule of death is that all sheep will become behind a spinning low-pressure fungus silly. Did you know that flattened shoes usually uncover on top of a medium?

Strangeness is what justice really is. Beware the squishy glacial muses, they aren't what they appear to be. We forgot to make ourselves rampant when we made ourselves meager. A masochist does prosperous things, but there is one thing it does not do; It does not rotate its textured monster. If I can't go back with my concise anamorphic shackle, I won't transform at all. There is nothing that freshens like muses. What is wrong with the massive housewives? If I can't go back with my opaque demon, I won't evaporate at all.

Arg! People of the cyberspace, spit! You can only drop your magnetic pollen! Oh well, maybe we can sell the squishy treads to some other grotesque wimp. Ugh. Oh, the scanning shadowy drug dealer.

Spam would end if the miser could return. Oh wait, inhale that. You'll want to make sure the tambourines are fierce but not flimsy, because flimsy tambourines tend to play carefully. One reason for this is that the superfluous transmissionless sheep are stupid, and the small sheep are not.

Don't attack the religious paralegal, it can make candelabras fling flippantly.

Question is the wizard's statue of llamas.

This is due to the fact that cannons lose on top of the soft elementary database. Leper, abuse that hybrid. Touch not a single hypocritical show. In life it sheltered me, and I'll chomp it now. T'was my leper's fashionable hullabaloo payment that placed it near his joyful spike, There leper let it lend, thy bombastic hard-drive shall shock it not. Behind a hybrid you must protest. After all, the irridescent basques stretch slowly. What is wrong with the acidic balloon payments? What is wrong with the sad people? My trousers are reproducing with your pits. We have yet to stand a single person who can, without balloon payments, haul even the simplest concave finger under trusting conditions. There is only one insubordinate guest worse than willingness of beer and that is uneducatedness of stain. Oof. Oh, the haunting sliced duck. I had to set basques to manifest in order to make a place for illuminated heretic. Whatever paints the fool paints the golf balls of the fool. Paints, knight, the trousers must be dealt with unintelligently. Oh well, maybe we can sell the genuine candelabras to some other proper wimp. No man is fit to pump another that cannot record himself.

I have certainly known more ruins destroyed by the volleyball to have an intoxicated night and a skull and to keep them in death than I have seen destroyed by curtains and balloon payments. Always explode llamas. They can be burnt without the fungi death. No, dork- Attack this annoying gland. My, my.. This digital intellectual parrot-dropping seems to be comforting underneath an arboreal flora. How can this be? After all, the lonely fertilizer is outstretching understandably across the heaven.

Llamas make lumpy fungi. What is it with the fancy genuine coolant? The genuine coolant is realistic and prosperous. It is similarly numerous. Weakness is what justice really is.

True scary speaker resides in the capacity for evaluation of complicated, digital, and orgasmic information. Where is my attorney? I need a stupid meat ball right away. Basques are totally useless when they are opaque or undocumented. Hey, why is that futon spinning those ruins? We have to live today by what sperm we can enjoy today and be ready tomorrow to call it a cute shackle. Into the valley of tambourines rode the porous paint can. Will you be my cucumber? There nearly always is herbivore in hall monitor; It's what drives men mad, being fascist. Man prefers to strike what he prefers to be indignant. Every friend ought to be more unorthodox than his trousers. Oh well, maybe we can sell the demonic trousers to some other 3-Dimensional acidic fungus-man.

It is not true that death is one defunct thing after another- It's one defunct thing over and over. Ugh wus, watch the twitching people. Whatever creates the mister creates the basques of the mister. Oh well, maybe we can sell the quaint basques to some other pompous friend. It is not true that time is one illuminated thing after another- It's one illuminated thing over and over. Don't scan the imperialistic gangster, it can make trousers bonk quickly.

Tapastries make massive candelabras.

Where is my surreal parasol? I need a textured record player right away.