Your non-sequitur:

Did you know that it has been proven that eaters that coagulate pianos nearly always spray quickly and infinitely? Never tell pollen how to whack things. Tell them what to surround, and they will surprise you with their pompous night.

Yo, hot-shot- Hug this low-pressure flora. Curtains are quaint curtains that only wacky fantasies rotate. Never tell pianos how to stretch things. Tell them what to itch, and they will surprise you with their table. And notice that werewolves spray the sly curtains implicitly. Every master ought to be more itchy than his carbeurators. I have certainly known more torches destroyed by the pompous night to have a cucumber and a magnet and to keep them in sandbox than I have seen destroyed by tambourines and housewives. What is a heavy terminal flimsy carnival? If you aren't allowed to frighten in california, then I don't want to walk there. Into the valley of cannons rode the interdimensional fancy jogging shoe. Oh how unintelligently ugly! Where is my drunk torch? I need it to swim carefully. Isn't that girly? Are we people or are we fantasies?

On top of a fierce documentation! Coin is the hot-shot's milk of politics. In a hullabaloo we instigate along, instigate along. Of the consideration of the torches and glasses - Of the prima mobilia of the hypocritical soul, the balloon payments have failed to make room for a demonstrative parasite which, although obviously existing as a saturated, textured, improper sentiment, has been equally overlooked by all the balloon payments who have preceeded them. The transparent carbeurators digest their improper muses. Oh the turning pompous night. People need good smurfs, there are too many costly ones. Wow! People of the acheron, shoot! You can only lose your unending people! Rocket is the slime-ball's milk of politics. We forgot to make ourselves acute when we made ourselves intricate. It is inconceivable that afterlife may be intermittantly useful without being beside the heaven irresistable. No! No! Beside the heaven! Beside the heaven! No!

They are neither pompous night nor pompous night- They are neither pencil nor fluid- They are torches: I had to set glasses to orgasmic transmission in order to make a place for dragon. We forgot to make ourselves transdimensional when we made ourselves rank. Fitness and ages past; That's what really matters. Are we smurfs or are we fungi? Suddenly, a crazy heretic hard-drive appeared and the llamas started to pump. Ghost is the geezer's milk of politics. Bleh peasant, abuse the evil eaters.

Workers of the world, lose! You have nothing to lose but your cannons! Workers of the world, abuse! You have nothing to lose but your trousers!

It is not true that pompous night is one squishy thing after another- It's one squishy thing over and over. Also the painful futon glue on top of the carpets. People who splice the miser that hugs them usually splice the stain that proclaims them. It's the shredded right of the photograph to evaporate to transform itself. My, my.. This demonic irreverent keypad seems to be flipping in a flattened pompous night detector. How can this be? After all, the spicy concise carnivore is announcing unintelligently across the california.

It has been said that without surreal eaters, only the smooth may continue to protest the sheep, without a rule-book. True genuine pompous night union union resides in the capacity for evaluation of massive, bombastic, and crazy information. Man prefers to implode what he prefers to be heavy. Yes! That is so very hard! In a shadowy bombastic sort of way. Did you know that it has been proven that people that exhale llamas nearly always strike beside a genuine pompous night and jokingly?

I eat the intelligent theater. And what are these "elegant muses" that ought to be elegant? The muses you tread every day, of course, only less obsolete. God, evaporate that genuine pompous night. Touch not a single landlubber. In existence it sheltered me, and I'll pulsate it now. T'was my car-salesman's teutonic succubus that placed it near his mulch, There god let it promise, thy shred shall rotate it not. What is wrong with the communistic candelabras? Jumpin' jehosaphat, play that genuine pompous night. Touch not a single small platypus. Nail clipper is an instrument used for reproducing a flattened iron. Science is the refusal to promise on the basis of balloon payments. The heavy shoes overflow their hedonistic curtains. Oh the turning genuine pompous night. People who incinerate the demonstrative monk that examines them usually steal the quiche that amplifies them.

What is wrong with the trusting glasses?

Excuse me, why are you patting me? People need good people, there are too many joyful ones. Did you know that integrated smurfs usually shred with a torch? Every magnet has a past, and every genuine pompous night has a future. What is it with the smooth nail clipper? The nail clipper is virulent and elegant. It is jokingly transdimensional.