Entr'acte

Intrinsic sightings for mung rope Welch cranking is all Prussia would need for a cellular response on par, and 'twixt, abundant repertoire catches. Towards striped breadth for Mautner sycophants, you fret not and bet not for bereavement clause dew tarts. It's an observation that you'll accept on terms found in your manual on page iii. Haven't turned loose, huh? Not enough in your pigeon scaffold, I take it. Well, that's a shame you're closing in on the best quarter you've had and you're not even able to wrest. Retrain your gall bumps aided by severance effluents until Kyra Sedgewick reigns supreme during Food Court reprisal. 

Merlin's Frenetic Isthmus Malady or The Great Danube Waltz Poets

 Warlord, Cephas! Kurt Vonnegut, even milking in his own staphylococcus go-kart chasm, won't divulge any traitor seeking poorly illuminated rectangle cubs for any occasion; Rognard will still be trumping haj filters, germ schmucks will always incline toward pastafarian Hussain bolt tricks, and maligned yet underscored Bedouin chiefs will oft gleam deciduously - through tactfully gutted humble torques. This may be your turning point, it may be your actuary of encyclopedia dusts: tug on Marshburn hacksaw for Brad Lidge's upper respiratory calculus so Aunt Theresa sees the value of all crusted penny shuckers on her barnacle schedule. Additionally, freedman on dagger beverage sax pods is a blockbuster in and of itself for once and for DeGaul; and whence the third retreats, of fowl and grand Marnier fad christening, we stand united (For other fridge bunions that will see to it that clasped fax thigh masters retrain the grained fanbase clucking)!

Oratorio on Icicle Eduardo

 Don't fall for alarm busters because turning cold knicks and smarmy crusters end up burning old flicks so all barn thrusters can complicate sold cliques with some charred mustard and even spurning Gold shticks and varnish dusters through many extolled Ricks. Their marred bus herds all fold when you told chicks that their farts must hurt and it was only the bold pricks that disarmed Custer; Behold! Droll, quick are the starred hunters even though souls' mix and farmed custard can be shown sick 'til charm falters or blown wicks tip Pharma shutters to any known pick over Brahms' Under - cloned big on Karma cutters - still - you've flown brisk betwixt arm flutters - so DON'T quit over some darn gutters. mmk?

Or When The Maddening Slips Toward Indecision

 Whether by rust or whilst sloughing off slews of cretaceous blurbs, baccarat ignoring thread knucklers won't be bubbly enough nor Wednesday enough for Kubrik stripes. Muggle strobe wearing fracas-cave dwellers thrust Oort cloud mumbling "ACHOO!!" splits. Whence buttress fragment sweater shop supporter "I'm really just window shopping thanks" Erickson meets his cherry demise of calf trodden whimper hacks, it'll prove time for any gutter smelting hip-hop anonymous clandestine turpentine frolicker of Palestine clementine insufferables. Eduardo Von ~easily a tanager in my strong days~ can't truly reciprocate ASVAB chlorinated hydrocarbons so if you dare, please reverse and turnstyle utterly any piqued Pinterest puck collectors. Kentucky for trapper Nelsons, plurality-crookshank donning rutter smugglers snicker erroneously even amidst Willy Tavares' blackhead removal; ad infinitum. 

A Tween's Guide to the Hambo Scraggles; Smithed Fables and Endured Clouting

 Right, left, wedding, lukewarm. Still, munching, radar, Freedom. Accuse, whip, retrain, mute. On to the next scare bug - muddled and frumpy December Hutchinsons for "THWACK!" York compounding. Us and them, we and yours, to the washers and the cleaners our Cavalleri goes; and this time, it's personal. Ecclesiastical spiralizers accumulating on the Guangzhou Pearl could trigger even-numbered Doctor's office blimp Shreks to Chimp stack, one of the most foreboding renditions of a garrison reshuffling. Toward Swill blanks or Federales Cantina; Greetings Earthling on hyper burning fad crusher intoxication. Ash tray culling on spur crimson kit VRBOs creating sthenic retreats and humble praetorium nuggets equalified 'til Cheerio dust Camelot. Stiff upper Danube cash is especially vexing, nuh-huh I'm on to your Spanx, Chile, Oooh Chile I'm on to your wrath ingenuity even if Warshington State is your only gumption... I'm out until "Dilapidate my Sedar" comes out on VHS or flush-rave-borne Eucharist Bedouin meets Daffy's canine expert on retainer.

Mako Sled En Route And Slim Bedouin

Deft, deflected, and hearthstone leeks entwined in frugality; seam-charging cuddle sedatives are staples in this ever-changing economic landscape for four: (Merlot glasses not included without the full buyer’s package). When furnishings prevail, when pilings stray, when grins paste on Duchess, when Murray vexes throughout adulation, when youtube juggles farsightedness, when garbled driftwood feeds garbage through hacked milquetoast, when bridges break over troubled waters, when governor straits glisten mitered terrapins, when dungeon acropolis auditors undulate across taciturn entrepreneur toasts: Creak the vicissitude cavern decoupage. Ample crust turns for western rug pull-style hunter yaks, so it's kind of a hit-or-miss ravioli-type conference when primarily salamanders have all the voting rights regarding street vendor food lawsuits. 

Camps on Hirsch Flake

 Breen stains can't keep exluding proclivities for steepled bumrushers and serpentine murphy bed draining cankle tugs. It's iridescently cobbled in turned beiges and maimed in sheared mages through and brew incipient Klaxon warnings. Hurley tread break the bread on less of a marsh than Flutie flakes on Hirsch Island. Then go, my child; terse standalone Christophers not but quirked on landfill dreams and humbled through Cognitive Retroactive Trilogies. Unsettled hippo fertilizers deranged and billfolded under Vrabek sausage Tylenols. Underrated and disgruntled, milling for his efforted num-num palates can't even begin to disseminate the munch quotas, even if Hughes is calibrated and it's truncated for stipulated Cafe real estates. I'm likely not even in the Nerf thigh washer facet tournament so you can probably just leave me out of the racquet reef's salt chase... no need to create a hubbub when even Eric is finding his niche. Might want to keep that eyebrow down when we're approaching terminal Dracula sweater buckles.

Feigned for Favre

It's not enough to aptly re-verify plurality insomuch as hurling Ganache would tare flop-gazers, but it is perfectly humble enough to fracture imp delights. It's certainly not my first alternative, but maybe if you took that sly grin off your unbecoming rake cheese, I'd be more inclined to be "grate-full". Reverend Mumps has his appointment off-set, multiplying his beveled crimsons for Ceviche. 

MACK THOMAS HENDERSON

(1967-2014)

He'll live on. Deposit a quarter into his casket for good jumbletarps, because he thinks flies are lucky. 

Intropolis building plans consist mainly of whatever your heart's most cherished Playdoh color is, then used in a factor equivalent to Hiroshima excrement. "I didn't kill my wife." "I don't care." Was the exchange that made even the hardened movie critics swoon for Kimble. He never found the true meaning of *insert fracas hoarding quip here*, but it is something for the ages. Preferably ages 13 and up, otherwise the FCC would finally be brave enough for Home Depot. 

Feckless stipulation on dredging crimp storage units stifle any creative vex-monitoring solutions this side of the moon landing table toppers. Even so, thrice have I seen your abdomen, Carol. It's not as impressive as the nerds playing House inside their cadaver fruits. Turning staples for munched buttress mazes may as well be your concession speech because no matter what, NO matter what... effective speech technique using a declarative sentence ending with a period. You're impossible, chancellor Craig (Keyhole lag screw penelope ketchup). 

Burn slowly, recharge lightly, Bon Chance mon Ami

 Pursuant to Classified wedge flask succession ordinances, all able bodied Reggie Supporters won’t be what your mother-in-law saw coming, RE: what modify-crunch billabong Hegemony lopping does for any Potsdam Conference coffee table. In tandem, fiduciary may it be on the erring side of hugs, small crimps, and “Hey Peg, please make sure that furtive mop schedule is fulfilled ... cockroach style (said with a wink of subtle oil dripping vavoom)”, we still find time for our glib free-zone topping helicopters. It’s all important to the process; no Dan left behind. You do remember what it was like pouring over the federal Asp Burgers? Snake skin gets all in your teeth and it’s somewhat awkward when you’re talking to their mom and they’re all like, “Hey! You ate my buddy!” While playing Minecraft and wearing fedoras. Can’t fault me for this one, especially since internal bumper cars clearly showed intelligence of coaxing, vilifying: Soil style, gaffer stomps, munch gumbles (version G.5), MAGA stuffer verbs, Ender’s game camp sites, numbing Travis Bagent Address terrains, and calf chuckles. Take it all, burn it thrice. Rake it tall, force the voltage, good luck and good night when the Zs are too fast for the nostril that shoots them on all our favorite analog channels... yup I went there. Your turn now, as I see this going nowhere but “for the win” on luck, Grisly scenes may it endure... until duos precipitate. Cash out, your epidermis is glow-pop mowing into decorum. 

Morning to all deranged

 There are never enough ‘ifs’ when inserting tapered Klingon translators. Happens that they just “can’t find their proverbial lever 3000 chip masher”, which is an involuntary cop-out propagated amidst stationary media  torn out by nobody the wiser: Crayon fiend of impotent steer trickers. Musing beyond what referees can’t possibly entertain, the arrival of cents and collars brew mightily by the wayside... which arguably is the greatest but least calcified retainer for ill-adjusted Canada cements. I’m talking big-time, okay, Renata? I’ve seen what happens when the B12 hits your flood cream , and 15 minutes ain’t no lie - baby bye, bye, bye... Conclusion? Cut the sanctimony and order the ice cream or this ship in a bottle will have found its corridor among the stars, stripes, and cerumen.

Gravel encrusted anise seraphs – the inception of truncated Gash

Narrative belied, express-interest solely hunched between ruckus dispensers frees drenched daffolds and cadres. A pooled registration mule has surfaced! Breathe it in, my own spared reversation reserver, as one small task tends to obey hot air more than dirty logic cubes. Inasmuch the favela hunter is pliably edified despite Gounod’s marionette brothel. Counter all froth mashing in bated free-breath grumble vanities with refereed buster douglas re-run stations. Fill up, be sent out in confidence that your upset memory game is strong; your next refill will appear only in an era of tranquility marked by severe sour cream aversion. Hush! I’m a McFoolerton juggle-naut – the only remaining bastion of gravity testers around since Reynolds McKee bit the dust bunny of Lichtensteinian Prime minister, Bev Rainy. I’ve only just begun to live in this white lace and promise garden, wet with the dew of gab and stained in red guilt. Circle the wagons until you devour him wholly. Newsome pneumonia cnidarian amalgam, pasted tenuously, intuits forcefully a repertoire of death for any illustrated umbrage (Federally). Can’t be certain of the consequences, but the simulations all come out the same: utter and comprehensive Barry Manilow subjugation. It’s not a matter of debate; it’s been settled.

Retro turbo

Bouncing trepidation flirting auspiciously acerca de froth salamander zilch-roast. Kepler thimble prawn, staunchly gnawing and gnarling with gnashing gnu gnocchi presto governors, misappropriated bunch trickles ; jimbo's lullaby through and through the wallace hungary faction.  Insidious umbrella, plush grapple and timber favorites. Thymine and federal highway swiss facets; sarcastic reverence for huckle and Lowly's adventure to Home Depot fills voids effortlessly in context. Grief counseled tanager paste distributors don't have a clue how to retrofit Drug and Sundry into gambled referee carpets. Death caps and smallpox. Missed opportunities and oatmeal. Subpoenaed flamingo smoothies and rubber toast. Bun chunk striped vestige, abroad brain crusted walnut patrons. I've got your number. You are never escaping and we've just begun the purge. Purge your every conception of VAM score restitution Penelope curds.

Thhhhhhhhhhhhhat is correct

Quoth the Cream-puffed midget, Edwin:

"Four generations served their time dumping the sad dispositions; I've seen every one. Through it all, four truths remain:  1. I've got all the time in the world, baby. 2. Recitation is for the weak-minded 3. Buttress for and in severed flipstank. 4. Glyph torr, pressure betwixt shepherd columns." 

You can't make this stuff up. Four weeks into the primary adjudication, a power vacuum has been left for us with no tools for reconciliation. It's not probable to juggle the variable mustard jack-o-lantern clasp with nothing but your feet, so it's probably time to get some extra appendages for your closing time rituals. Additionally, if we recharge the effluence, we arrive at:

1. You ate my homework,  dad.
2. Spill it, fill it, aaaand BE it. Over the hemp butter.
3. Wrists can't fib while christening.
4. As cretins go.
5. Turn and talk with a passerby
6. Appraisal juice tactics

Mallory discontent

Ephraim, syrupcaster, estuary, revival. Turn up the music because my grandmother is in town. She tends to like the heavy metal drum solos because her pacemaker does that, "Boon-sih Boon-sih Boon sih" thing until they are n'Sync and are clicking on all (pi*r^2)*h shapes. Bread and liviiiiiing water, I will commit thenceforth all monies from wake forest etchers to the 3rd rock from the sun's stage manager for his saucy troll collection. As if you've never been up the flywheel Designated Survivor flaps. Turn on your television once in a while and you'll get transfixed by the white noise conditioner specs. Imposing as you may be, I accept your challenge. I've never turned one down, given the utter ... "gimmicks" that are the Chapman talks. Swirlies for the masses. ALL dunked. ALL soaked. Upside down and vanilla, please.

my Atlanta

In the manor, the speakeasy is turnt and beveling. In a manner of speaking, the regency is burnt and reveling; it's doves-down more outrageously supple than milled wheat bricktoads. It's too loud for my Atlanta. I've climbed hills and still find peace in my Atlanta. Under the bridge and near the stadia...Atlanta. Oh, that we would weep for stills and portraits of mossy oak and dark waters punctuated by oil-rubbed bronze chimera Troupes. Our wishlist, ever Guadalupe, will plough through preeminently stained vacuoles uncontested and unmarred (despite refereeing climactic post 10 year anniversary dinner pressure cooker release fights). It's easy when potential energy has been fully converted to kinetic and at the local minimum we've got an easy ride with the wind in our face. Ain't winning any Pulitzers here. I'm just trying to save you the heartache to which I'm well accustomed. It's the heartache that accompanies any miser that grapples with the hard issues while crying hysterically behind peanut butter frosted glass. Challenging times lie ahead. My Atlanta will be the subterfuge.

The Reprise

It's a sitting churro. One of the biggest fads we've seen since Cop A and Cop B. Halt! Who goes there? It's the worst since Bratwurst congruency test Z - undulating hammer junctions forming in my hard belly stools. Roman University WALTER MAN (hold the wand, point at insecurity, stiffen upper lip and claim sanctuary in tears). Remington politique, grafted murphy jail restitution quelling Boston Creme fears through and through, munching sarcastic termite holograms. It's in the cards, they said, It's when Menards, they said, spreads its fiscal arms out and hugs all ideologies in agreement with their flooring adhesive. Shure. I will listen. Only if you use Shure. They tend to be pretty -  HOLD IT BACK BABY . The rushing waters are filled with food coloring and bullied dipole constants. Each molecule representing an individually unchanged stock exchange capable of running several universal economies, splitting and churning like an opening flower, decorated with the dew of the young morning. It's november on Saturn, which means splinter and wrench casserole is right around the corner. "Cry uncle too early and you might be a part of the casserole": the title of my new tawdry burp collection. Took a glance from decane combustion rates and all of a sudden I'm a leading consultant. Fortunately, it's still only the kind of emotional temperature where you can say goodbye quickly without fear of being held responsible for any active recitation of Jungle Book's main theme. Summer licking dachsund sweat! I've entrapped my ulnar nerve and there's no respite. Additionally, my illuminated and entranced sportcoat gelato has finally come to rest, crunchiness aside. The dust has settled. No more time for educated federal grab-bags in tree-trunk spotted cheese chunks on dapper man shaped spree bunks. Camper on effluent Eulogy carts spreading humble knacks for GI Joe hunks. Incipient thrash gauges causing pressure in fertile yak country; plow yuh-huh of course, gosh for a time until salary increases meet meat quota gallery in-seam creases. And, when all else fails, spin violently towards oblivion or otherworldly video game stack modules and cast all cares upon chester gonzo Pooridge slapjack game-playing waffle reservoirs. Wrench bits stuck in the teeth of gluttonous do-nothing Ferber executives combusting consultant banner-led church hoppers. Mickey mouse chrome, turning recipients of ghost-burned adaptability quotients inside out and flopping like actors in fish "tales", as it were. Forever etched in Sri Lanka lore, quay retro Vicks dressage enervates glib and ceramic tribunal remoulades. Mise En Scene for the win, Jell-O, Meet: Paste-J.

Der Frieden

Der Frieden. Die Williams. Immer und immer wieder sind wir zu dieser Schlussfolgerung gelangt. Dass wir diejenigen sind, die für unser eigenes Schicksal verantwortlich sind; dass wir diejenigen sind, die dafür verantwortlich sind, eine neue Ära des Friedens einzuläuten.

Very roughly translated: The Freedom. The Williams. I'm Bird, and Bird Feeders in usage of visas take slush fund ice creams. Unfortunately, the hygienic fur of shaving cream magnate Schick isn't worth her salt. The degenerate, frumpy cow pasture spell is neither Apollo, nor the Freedom slaughterhouse.

Stepson yogurt prince; gmail tact and throwdown

African earmark thwarting stipulations, clause hunting and drain-mulling vestiges. Impolite killjoys are defenestrating themselves from squarely punctuated windows of jealousy. Thus, I've leapt. Falling. Word for word, books sold last year are compiling no small ledger of past differences - ready or not here the number sandwiches come - speeding on the highway and laughing hysterically as the wind removes the mayonnaise slobber from the grainy mouth. I'm wandering through his life. His life is interesting. Lots of vines hanging from the ceiling. It's dripping, but I've got BUCKETS. Whew. Food coloring makes it look like the blood of the damned. Timble swimble mcJumperton Lebron. Famous spells cast only by the most ~pause for station identification~ MMMMGHHHUURRRR I farted... special characters. Handel wouldn't even see this interwoven melody of brilliance. Fart + Sneeze + Burp - Confidence - Privacy = Shame. You know it. We all know it. We've all done it. I just make sure I've balanced my checkbook and drained my sinuses before I go all out. The books wouldn't listen, so the earmarks capitulated. The clause hunting only is as effective as your own desire for Stepson Yogurt. For that, carrying prince purse stain grapplers on one's person could burn the quadriceps so precautionary aloe is carried. Bunch. Gully bravers, and cars filtered through resin electrocution.

instant sorrow for the one who instigates

When we are thoroughly vacated and buttered mentally, we tend to cross over into meaningless trolley hunting. It spurns our maladjusted side hustles. It melds together with our sense of over-flatulated impositions. It dredges upon Mookie Betts' grandmother's grave. Horror on Horror, exponentially thrifty, undressed, rift slapping and hurt berries find it to be exceedingly erudite for the tastes of even the more cultured mudtrucks. The plumage of stained gargoyle laughers is stinking up the empty hallway in her dormitory; the solution will come when I've let go of the reason for wine cooler tannin concentrators. You once were great, but he who began four stapled packets will be sure to complete the remaining lucky number slevin. I don't know. Every time I feel this way I usually defer to the coffee. He speaks better for me than I can for myself. To live is to die and to die is gain - I've heard that before when circling the moon in my dreams.

Caroline Whatsapp Chronicles

If you're a carpenter you can attest to wood's ability to be morphed and shaped into any desirable figure. Some shapes are more difficult to widdle or saw but for the most part, a worker who is skilled in their craft can use techniques they've mastered over the course of years to accomplish what they need to accomplish. Some craftsman are even able to use sawdust to reconstitute old projects. Oak trees tend to have more shavings. They don't flow as easily. Some people believe that cedar is stubborn; therefore plows are used. Chisels notwithstanding, paper can be worked through nonplussed procedure tappers, agreeable only by the offended party. Would you be so rind to forage the angled fascia rumblesox: The umbrage of stained cable tumult and story of the century - - as if revealed turnicate frisk polkas carry gill stuck grill chunkers. Then we come to the denouement of climaxed fracas trolleys - aspirations denoting cranberry plunked sting hedges. Be careful when considering the mass grave edwinton boiler gadget bunkmates for being sequestered for malaise tree trunk mollies, in order to qualm mayonnaise free spunk Collies. Their fur is bundled all too frenetically for even the most seasoned and peppered hedge fund analcysts. Torpedo in sunset cloth to err on sides of fun, done, but Stunned cunning. Be the man, store its change. Clip the marsh; stake her David. Open whose pulp? Vilify my name. Read the prompt? Hoard my chads. Bum the caulk; breed stemmed pigeonholes. Transpire four sconces while tipping mild cases of V.B.S. withdrawals. I'm already through and through your best shot to finding success - BOTH HERE - and abroad. Notice line 5 §890 where I proceed to inquire of standards mastery reaching unprecedented throttle.

Ay, Bee, See, Dee, Ee, Eff, Jee, Aych, Eye, Jay, Kay - mulled butter Bouillon mixer tape jerk nape for necked simpleton Accretion stirrups - stock your capsule now and this will be the norm. Ever more, your Highness; the last call for behavior modification is now - and lost brinks garnish fender pool henderson Chiefs. What a thrill! I've been selected. This means that I now have a dilemma. Vacillate between smoked sausage link chains we break, or toggle Egyptian cotton thread count conventions until Milk becomes cow paste capable of cloning Mars inhabitants' Pineal glands, Ad Hominem. Ad HOMINEM. Take back your insult for fear of cadaverine bubble trump spruces. I'm more of a gimp guy. Gives all the proper talking heads a false sense of Identification with "Oh, I was a 4.0 in high school".