Ketch, yawl, brand new junk…
Take a look at this exquisite Walloon game, in kit form but brief. Carry that old whiskey to the blond judge who smokes on his inner island, next to the egg-shaped alcove, where the logs burn in the hearth, which allows him to think of the caenogenesis of being which is in question in the ambiguous cause heard in Moÿ, in a shambles which, he thinks, here and there diminishes the quality of his work. Prove, fair judge, that the famous yak sandwich kills. The cramped isle, Where the obese mature jury Celebrates hated volapük, Donkey tied at whist, Take away this disappointed vow. Old coat that I modify:
breitschwanz or yak? From Christmas when a hated zephyr dresses me in würmian ice cubes, I dine on exquisite roast beef with kir à l’ai de mure age & cætera! Fiery, I intoxicate the squaw with the handsome zythum pack. Brand new ketch, yawl, junk… judge the prices! See the giant brig I am examining near the wharf. Take that old whiskey to the smoking blond judge. Cover the tail of the taxi car with the fakir's pajamas. Ambiguous voice of a heart which, to the zephyr, prefers bowls of kiwis.
My poor ankylosed zebu shocks your
Ketch, yawl, brand new junk…
Take a look at this exquisite Walloon game, in kit form but brief. Carry that old whiskey to the blond judge who smokes on his inner island, next to the egg-shaped alcove, where the logs burn in the hearth, which allows him to think of the caenogenesis of being which is in question in the ambiguous cause heard in Moÿ, in a shambles which, he thinks, here and there diminishes the quality of his work. Prove, fair judge, that the famous yak sandwich kills. The cramped isle, Where the obese mature jury Celebrates hated volapük, Donkey tied at whist, Take away this disappointed vow. Old coat that I modify:
breitschwanz or yak? From Christmas when a hated zephyr dresses me in würmian ice cubes, I dine on exquisite roast beef with kir à l’ai de mure age & cætera! Fiery, I intoxicate the squaw with the handsome zythum pack. Brand new ketch, yawl, junk… judge the prices! See the giant brig I am examining near the wharf. Take that old whiskey to the smoking blond judge. Cover the tail of the taxi car with the fakir's pajamas. Ambiguous voice of a heart which, to the zephyr, prefers bowls of kiwis.
My poor ankylosed zebu shocks your
