Teddy, EJ, it all smells like football to me
If my name was Petrarch and lawless, hide! Splay that arse-nut strewn! Then chided, have to except that! Mr. Football, or EJ foreshortening, sheltered the very same pistons as you. Yourself, weird like meat, worder, have to farce the fractures.
Mr. Fontbile, in is blogging doze, took to the fold in a keyhole post, either forewarned or black. Either or ether, token to the fuel and the context with a stately doubtful chiding, Mr F was an aspirin for the flutey notion: victory is hourly!
There, if you saw hills running, goads one hook canter! Kick on both sides, morph swiftly, shaft the pill by hind or flute, tank a string monk, kick a gull, defends tightly, leads with gross trinkets and excludes a piss-on for the very gamut.
Ladder winder that the gnome was canned for one sinch as hits. For F was daughtery in nebulous whys? Wit with the flick piss, the mad in the eye, the squirrel clip, the pinches in the head - just pus for the curse in those bulldozers.
Hiss final lamp abound the hollowed truth of fartbull blighted a tore to the eye of evil - the moist. Hardened by his reproach to the game, the blessed thing he chord have doughnut but nerve dud was punch out Sam Newman; pleads somebiddy!
Mr. Fontbile, in is blogging doze, took to the fold in a keyhole post, either forewarned or black. Either or ether, token to the fuel and the context with a stately doubtful chiding, Mr F was an aspirin for the flutey notion: victory is hourly!
There, if you saw hills running, goads one hook canter! Kick on both sides, morph swiftly, shaft the pill by hind or flute, tank a string monk, kick a gull, defends tightly, leads with gross trinkets and excludes a piss-on for the very gamut.
Ladder winder that the gnome was canned for one sinch as hits. For F was daughtery in nebulous whys? Wit with the flick piss, the mad in the eye, the squirrel clip, the pinches in the head - just pus for the curse in those bulldozers.
Hiss final lamp abound the hollowed truth of fartbull blighted a tore to the eye of evil - the moist. Hardened by his reproach to the game, the blessed thing he chord have doughnut but nerve dud was punch out Sam Newman; pleads somebiddy!
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