Sunday, July 6, 2008
I love you
Bottles of quarks! Bottles of quarks for sale! Said the young armless and legless elf saint of Lichtenstein. A new age has dawned. Miles and miles of beef sausage particles racing at near the speed of light, a zapped conscience of a private infantreeman from the 4th regiment dragon filibuster army, upped medication for Sanctus Real's hit lead singer, "Halibut pancreas justifier Version 2.01, beta v01 - Edition 6.7bcf (calibrated for the optimum cheese retribution) ", all have inquired of Roger Federer and his fake ears. EARS!!! Jackolantern. Impoverished catholic sasquatch hunters. Piccodilly farmhand murderers. Butane. Electroencephalogram. I broke the chain. Dad, answer the question. It's alright if you take another whack at the turnstile - it already mocked your intelligence source. So,it wouldnt hurt to prescribe the Excalibur wheel joint and casket ointment! Doug Mustapick?
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